"The decision to be a writer had come over [Briggs] while the fleet was cruising in the Caribbean, pausing in St. Thomas, Montego Bay, Port-au-Prince and other playlands where he met fellow Americans and British ladies and gentleman lounging around swimming pools with tall frosted drinks in their hands, being fanned by tireless natives.
"'Who are these people', Briggs had asked, and on being told that these fortunate folks were all writers - novelists, playwrights, journalists - Briggs cried out, 'Then that's the life for me! How do I begin?'
"With the flattering letters these genial professionals obligingly wrote for someone they felt could never be a rival, Briggs had no trouble landing the magazine job when he got out of the service. His honest statement that he had never written anything but clear, straightforward reports for superior officers charmed the City Life editor. Briggs had hoped for assignments in the field of sports but the editor felt that literary training and education were required for that, whereas art was a department where inexperience and ignorance would not be noticed."
Dawn Powell, The Wicked Pavilion
Friday, December 31, 2010
Finishing Up 2010
I mentioned the Motorola smart phones last week, but didn't mention that we also indulged in a new DVD player for Christmas. We took the old, tired one upstairs to the bedroom and put the new one downstairs where we do most of our TV watching. The DVD player is equipped with Blu-Ray, which really doesn't interest me much. What I like about it is the Internet capability which allows one to stream Netflix movies to the TV. As long as it's available on the Watch Instantly section I can stream it right to the television when I'd like. I watch mostly older movies so almost everything I am interested in is available in this format. I've already taken advantage this week, watching three movies - Our Man In Havana, To Be or Not To Be, and The Man Who Never Was (all three terrific) - with another dozen or so queued up. I'm feeling a bit under the weather this morning so I'll use that excuse to spend New Year's Eve day, and perhaps night, finishing a wonderful book, Dawn Powell's The Wicked Pavilion (if you love biting wit and blistering take downs of the pretentious and snobbish, you'll do no better than reading Dawn Powell, one of America's great writers) and indulging in more movie watching. A Happy New Year to all.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Snow Job
Much has been made about the snow cleanup, or lack thereof, in New York City since the blizzard. I have first-hand knowledge of the nightmare conditions the city experienced in the immediate aftermath: my wife and I drove up on Tuesday morning, a bit more than 24 hours after the snow had stopped. We'd booked a day trip back in November for the specific reason of seeing Driving Miss Daisy with James Earl Jones and Vanessa Redgrave, more about which anon. During the snow the previous day we were a but concerned about the drive up, specifically the conditions on the New Jersey Turnpike, but we needn't have been as the Turnpike was near-perfect. All lanes were open and dry, even around Elizabeth City where I heard they got 31 inches. Not only that but in most places both breakdown lanes were clear. That would never happen in the D.C. area under similar conditions. Here we'd have no breakdown lanes open and the snow would probably be piled up in one of the driving lanes for a few days. Certainly the lanes would not be totally clear of all snow and ice. But all the way up the NJ Turnpike it was as if they'd received no snow at all. Kudos to the state for performing a necessary and vital government function with aplomb. As a result of their good work it took us the normal 3 hours and 45 minutes to get from home to the Lincoln Tunnel exit.
And that's where the trouble started. Normally (during the week at noon, when we hit the exit on Tuesday) it would take us about 15 minutes to get from the exit to where we stay in midtown. On Tuesday it took us two hours, crawling the final four miles to the hotel at 55th and 7th. That's 2 miles per hour folks, virtual stand-still conditions. It was a full hour before we got through the tunnel and another hour through the city. It might have taken longer had I not cut over from 10th Avenue to 8th Avenue - I correctly surmised that the inner avenues would not be as jammed as the outer avenues - where I caught a break at about 40th street and got to 56th in a few minutes, where I cut over to 7th and then to 55th. We arrived at the hotel at 2 pm, our afternoon waning.
We'd planned on going to the American Museum of Natural History because we figured it would be cold and windy, not terrific walking conditions. But it was surprisingly nice outside, the sun shining and the wind down. So we walked through Central Park, taking our time. By the time we got to the museum it was nearly 4 and with the show starting at 7 and dinner plans down at 24th and 9th (the museum is at 79th and Central Park West) we had no time to do it justice. So we walked back, again through the park, which was jammed with people enjoying the snow.
We took the E train, the 8th Avenue local, down to 23rd street, right around the corner from Co. (pronounced "Company") for dinner. We'd heard they had terrific pizza but after looking at their website my wife was more interested in the bread. Which was delicious indeed. We sampled the bread with ricotta cheese and the toast with eggplant and both were yummy. The pizza, on the other hand, was nothing to write home about. John's or Angelo's is better. This pizza was burnt, and I think purposely, to judge by the pictures on their site. Once a pizza has even a little black on it that's all you taste, that burnt flavor. There is a fine line between crispy and burnt, and this place crossed it. I was afraid going in that Co., simply from its name, might be one of those places all the in-crowd start crowing about but isn't really that good and my fears were justified. Add to it the exorbitant prices and, well, we won't be back. Let the chi-chi folks have it. Like I said, you can eat better pizza for half the price at Angelo's. But I'll give it its due: the bread really is delicious.
We walked from 29th St. up 8th Avenue, past Madison Square Garden, to the play. It was good. Not great, but very enjoyable, especially James Earl Jones' performance. Vanessa Redgrave seemed a little bit off and I think it was that she never really got the southern accent down. She didn't seem quite right and I was a little disappointed in her performance given her reputation as a great stage actress. But that's a quibble. James Earl Jones was worth the price of admission.
Not our best trip to NYC given the crawl in but any day in New York is better than most elsewhere. I love it there, even with the horrible traffic conditions. Truth be told, I'm now quite enjoying the spectacle of Nurse Bloomberg taking hits from all sides, even the New York Times, because of the city's response to the snow. And the twitter traffic over the past few days has been quite funny, lots of good Bloomberg jokes ("Alert from Bloomberg to city residents: if you must resort to cannibalism eat only people that are low in transfats"; "The real reason the streets are still not cleared is Bloomberg won't allow the trucks to use salt": "If you really want Bloomberg to do something about the snow tell him some people are enjoying it".) That giant sucking sound you're hearing is Bloomberg's future political ambitions being flushed down the toilet. And I couldn't be happier. The pretentious boob has it coming.
And that's where the trouble started. Normally (during the week at noon, when we hit the exit on Tuesday) it would take us about 15 minutes to get from the exit to where we stay in midtown. On Tuesday it took us two hours, crawling the final four miles to the hotel at 55th and 7th. That's 2 miles per hour folks, virtual stand-still conditions. It was a full hour before we got through the tunnel and another hour through the city. It might have taken longer had I not cut over from 10th Avenue to 8th Avenue - I correctly surmised that the inner avenues would not be as jammed as the outer avenues - where I caught a break at about 40th street and got to 56th in a few minutes, where I cut over to 7th and then to 55th. We arrived at the hotel at 2 pm, our afternoon waning.
We'd planned on going to the American Museum of Natural History because we figured it would be cold and windy, not terrific walking conditions. But it was surprisingly nice outside, the sun shining and the wind down. So we walked through Central Park, taking our time. By the time we got to the museum it was nearly 4 and with the show starting at 7 and dinner plans down at 24th and 9th (the museum is at 79th and Central Park West) we had no time to do it justice. So we walked back, again through the park, which was jammed with people enjoying the snow.
We took the E train, the 8th Avenue local, down to 23rd street, right around the corner from Co. (pronounced "Company") for dinner. We'd heard they had terrific pizza but after looking at their website my wife was more interested in the bread. Which was delicious indeed. We sampled the bread with ricotta cheese and the toast with eggplant and both were yummy. The pizza, on the other hand, was nothing to write home about. John's or Angelo's is better. This pizza was burnt, and I think purposely, to judge by the pictures on their site. Once a pizza has even a little black on it that's all you taste, that burnt flavor. There is a fine line between crispy and burnt, and this place crossed it. I was afraid going in that Co., simply from its name, might be one of those places all the in-crowd start crowing about but isn't really that good and my fears were justified. Add to it the exorbitant prices and, well, we won't be back. Let the chi-chi folks have it. Like I said, you can eat better pizza for half the price at Angelo's. But I'll give it its due: the bread really is delicious.
We walked from 29th St. up 8th Avenue, past Madison Square Garden, to the play. It was good. Not great, but very enjoyable, especially James Earl Jones' performance. Vanessa Redgrave seemed a little bit off and I think it was that she never really got the southern accent down. She didn't seem quite right and I was a little disappointed in her performance given her reputation as a great stage actress. But that's a quibble. James Earl Jones was worth the price of admission.
Not our best trip to NYC given the crawl in but any day in New York is better than most elsewhere. I love it there, even with the horrible traffic conditions. Truth be told, I'm now quite enjoying the spectacle of Nurse Bloomberg taking hits from all sides, even the New York Times, because of the city's response to the snow. And the twitter traffic over the past few days has been quite funny, lots of good Bloomberg jokes ("Alert from Bloomberg to city residents: if you must resort to cannibalism eat only people that are low in transfats"; "The real reason the streets are still not cleared is Bloomberg won't allow the trucks to use salt": "If you really want Bloomberg to do something about the snow tell him some people are enjoying it".) That giant sucking sound you're hearing is Bloomberg's future political ambitions being flushed down the toilet. And I couldn't be happier. The pretentious boob has it coming.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Surrender
As you can tell from the previous two posts, I received a smart phone for Christmas with which I have already become well acquainted. If you've read this blog from the beginning, or the middle, you'll also know that I am, to put it mildly, anti-cellphone. So I guess you can call this my surrender post, surrendering to the technological miracles that have occurred these past few years. But in a way, I really haven't changed those opinions - I'm still anti-cellphone. I didn't get my new Motorola Droid 2 Global in order to be on the phone all the time. I decided to get it for all the other things it can do, i.e. the camera and camcorder, the ability to get mail, weather, and news, the ability to connect on Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, etc. I went with an Android phone because I think it will eventually surpass the iPhone. Open-source systems will always win out over closed-source. Apple has the lead right now but I expect that to fade, and rapidly, over the next few years.
Getting the phones themselves was quite an ordeal. My wife has had a cell phone for years and she wasn't due for new equipment until April, according to the Verizon contract. So we called Verizon last Saturday to see if we could get out of that contract in exchange for us both getting a new Droid 2 global and adding me to the plan, along with the new family package. No problem, they said. I spent an hour on the phone with the guy working out all the details. He gave me my order number, I wrote it down, he said I'd have my phones by the following Tuesday, and we hung up. All set.
Not so fast. The following day, Sunday, I checked my email to discover....nothing. Normally when buying these devices you'll receive and email from the vendor immediately after the order is placed. I searched online for the order number I'd been given, to no avail. So I called Verizon back, asking them to check on the status of the order. I spoke to three people, none of whom could find the order. So it was back to the drawing board. We set up the same contract again: my wife kept her old line, I received a new one, we got the 2-for-1 deal on the phone, the contract, and a couple of other goodies thrown in. They said they would overnight it, meaning we would get them Tuesday.
At work on Tuesday morning, my wife called to tell me she received an email from Verizon directing her to sign into our account to look at the details of the new plan. She did and discovered that there were three phones on our plan: hers, the one I got on the Sunday re-call, and some other mysterious number we'd never heard of. I called Verizon back.
After explaining the situation to the salesperson she put me on hold for awhile. When she came she told me that what happened was that since my wife was not due for new equipment until April they had to add an extra phone number to the order to get us the 2-for-1 deal on the new phones. All we needed to do once we received the phones was to activate the mystery number, then call them back for an equipment change to change the new device over to my wife's number. Since we were getting that third line for a $9.99 monthly fee and they were holding a promotion that deducted that fee for the life of the contract, we would not be charged anything extra. Just call us in two years once the contract is up, she said, and we'll drop the third line.
Well, you can imagine my frustration. No one had ever mentioned a third line to us, much less this convoluted way of getting my wife's number changed over to the new phone. I told the woman that some manager over there MUST be able to override this nonsense but she assured me she was part of the management team and that's the way it had to be done. If she could do anything about it she would, but nothing could be done. I called my wife back, explained the situation, and when she started asking me questions I advised her that it was better for everyone if I just stopped talking about it now. She understood.
Fedex tried to deliver the phones on Tuesday but we weren't home. They left a note saying they would try again the following day. Funny though, there were two separate orders from two separate delivery guys. I thought it strange they would send each phone out in a separate order. You can probably guess what happened next. I was home when Fedex came back on Wednesday to deliver the phones. Four phones, to be exact. I realized what had happened immediately. The very first order had been placed after all. Why no one could find it when we called back the following day, who knows? And the third line was the phone number they had assigned to me on the first day's order. It had nothing to do with the way the order had to be placed in order to get us the 2-for-1 deal, as the Monday salesperson had assured me.
After another hour on the phone with Verizon on Wednesday straightening things out, and mailing back the phones from the second order yesterday, we're all set.
I think.
And that's the story of how we got our new smart phones.
Getting the phones themselves was quite an ordeal. My wife has had a cell phone for years and she wasn't due for new equipment until April, according to the Verizon contract. So we called Verizon last Saturday to see if we could get out of that contract in exchange for us both getting a new Droid 2 global and adding me to the plan, along with the new family package. No problem, they said. I spent an hour on the phone with the guy working out all the details. He gave me my order number, I wrote it down, he said I'd have my phones by the following Tuesday, and we hung up. All set.
Not so fast. The following day, Sunday, I checked my email to discover....nothing. Normally when buying these devices you'll receive and email from the vendor immediately after the order is placed. I searched online for the order number I'd been given, to no avail. So I called Verizon back, asking them to check on the status of the order. I spoke to three people, none of whom could find the order. So it was back to the drawing board. We set up the same contract again: my wife kept her old line, I received a new one, we got the 2-for-1 deal on the phone, the contract, and a couple of other goodies thrown in. They said they would overnight it, meaning we would get them Tuesday.
At work on Tuesday morning, my wife called to tell me she received an email from Verizon directing her to sign into our account to look at the details of the new plan. She did and discovered that there were three phones on our plan: hers, the one I got on the Sunday re-call, and some other mysterious number we'd never heard of. I called Verizon back.
After explaining the situation to the salesperson she put me on hold for awhile. When she came she told me that what happened was that since my wife was not due for new equipment until April they had to add an extra phone number to the order to get us the 2-for-1 deal on the new phones. All we needed to do once we received the phones was to activate the mystery number, then call them back for an equipment change to change the new device over to my wife's number. Since we were getting that third line for a $9.99 monthly fee and they were holding a promotion that deducted that fee for the life of the contract, we would not be charged anything extra. Just call us in two years once the contract is up, she said, and we'll drop the third line.
Well, you can imagine my frustration. No one had ever mentioned a third line to us, much less this convoluted way of getting my wife's number changed over to the new phone. I told the woman that some manager over there MUST be able to override this nonsense but she assured me she was part of the management team and that's the way it had to be done. If she could do anything about it she would, but nothing could be done. I called my wife back, explained the situation, and when she started asking me questions I advised her that it was better for everyone if I just stopped talking about it now. She understood.
Fedex tried to deliver the phones on Tuesday but we weren't home. They left a note saying they would try again the following day. Funny though, there were two separate orders from two separate delivery guys. I thought it strange they would send each phone out in a separate order. You can probably guess what happened next. I was home when Fedex came back on Wednesday to deliver the phones. Four phones, to be exact. I realized what had happened immediately. The very first order had been placed after all. Why no one could find it when we called back the following day, who knows? And the third line was the phone number they had assigned to me on the first day's order. It had nothing to do with the way the order had to be placed in order to get us the 2-for-1 deal, as the Monday salesperson had assured me.
After another hour on the phone with Verizon on Wednesday straightening things out, and mailing back the phones from the second order yesterday, we're all set.
I think.
And that's the story of how we got our new smart phones.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Test post using voice functionality on my phone
I'm using the voice functionality on my new global phone in order to create this post. It seems to work pretty well. Here's wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Blogging from my droid
Just testing a short blog from my new Motorola Droid 2 Global phone. Merry Christmas!!
Friday, December 17, 2010
Dead Birds for Christmas
That's what the cat has brought us the past two mornings. Well, yesterday's was dead. Today's present we found still alive, behind some boxes up in the spare bedroom. There were feathers everywhere but the poor little thing was okay. After we moved the boxes he hopped away under the bed and when I went for him under the bed he flew into our bedroom. That's when we knew he was okay. So I opened the windows, closed the bedroom door, and off he flew, free at last.
I guess I should have known something was up when I heard the cat-door open and the cat running around like a maniac. I thought he was just burning off steam because he's been cooped up lately due to the cold and snow. My wife was exercising downstairs with the TV volume turned up loud and I had music playing in the kitchen loud enough to drown out the TV. So if the bird was making any noise during the episode I couldn't hear it. All the while he was being tortured by the damned cat. I didn't know what was up until my wife came back up the stairs and saw feathers everywhere.
I hope this isn't the twelve days of Christmas, cat-style. Two mornings in a row is plenty. No more birds please. Though I guess it's better than the bunnies he brings us each spring.
The cat shows no remorse whatsoever. He sleeping soundly in his usual spot, his day's work complete.
I guess I should have known something was up when I heard the cat-door open and the cat running around like a maniac. I thought he was just burning off steam because he's been cooped up lately due to the cold and snow. My wife was exercising downstairs with the TV volume turned up loud and I had music playing in the kitchen loud enough to drown out the TV. So if the bird was making any noise during the episode I couldn't hear it. All the while he was being tortured by the damned cat. I didn't know what was up until my wife came back up the stairs and saw feathers everywhere.
I hope this isn't the twelve days of Christmas, cat-style. Two mornings in a row is plenty. No more birds please. Though I guess it's better than the bunnies he brings us each spring.
The cat shows no remorse whatsoever. He sleeping soundly in his usual spot, his day's work complete.
Movie Critic
More positive confirmation on your host's excellent taste in movies. Last week James Lileks, this week Terry Teachout, who tweeted last night:
Follow the links in the link above, then go rent "Local Hero".
Mrs. T and I just watched a movie called "Local Hero" that I found utterly disarming.
Follow the links in the link above, then go rent "Local Hero".
Excerpt
"The Church’s enemies forgot that it does not have adherents because of its personnel, but because it is an ark of faith. The atheists, though often articulate and courageous and knowledgeable, and heavy-laden with the ammunition provided by the fatuity and hypocrisy of much Christian history, can never deal with the insuperable evidence of spiritual forces, miracles, and any ecclesiastical concept of grace. Nor can they surmount the challenge of man’s inability to grasp the infinite, the absence of an end and beginning of space or time. In these vast areas, notions of the supernatural and the deity will always circulate, no matter how great dissent may be."
Conrad Black, Catholicism, and the Oceans, Will Survive, at NRO
Conrad Black, Catholicism, and the Oceans, Will Survive, at NRO
Monday, December 13, 2010
Podcasts!
I've decided to add podcasting to my repertoire. I recorded this a few minutes ago and added it to the site. It's simply a vocal version of the Rock and Roll's Greatest Singers post just below. I still have to work out the details about submitting to iTunes and RSS feeds and the like, but that will come when I have a little more time. This was just a test and I'm fairly happy with it. I stumble a few times and mispronounce "sui generis" (it's soo-eye, not soo-eee) but for my first time out of the gate I'm happy with it. Anyhow, let me know what you think.
[audio:RollingStonesGreatest.mp3]
[audio:RollingStonesGreatest.mp3]
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind?
And say yes to one and leave the other behind? Yes, once again I've changed my blog theme. So in two days I went from iNove to Copyblogger and now to the Carrington Blog theme. I like this one too. Today. Who knows tomorrow?
Rock and Roll's Greatest Singers
I've had much pleasure recently reading neo-neocon's blog, which I discovered a few weeks back. She's good. I disagree with her take, however, on Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Singers of All Time. Of course I have my quibbles but I think they pretty much got it right. It's hard to argue with Aretha at #1. Her voice has always seemed a bit of a miracle to me, a combination of power, range, passion, and control that no one else can even come close to. If one were to argue it would have to be on the grounds that, since her late-60s pinnacle, she really hasn't been making great music overall. The sparks of brilliance over the years have been overshadowed by bad decisions, career missteps, lousy song choices, etc. The voice remains though, and I will accept her at #1.
Likewise, I won't argue with Ray Charles at #2, though I wouldn't have put him there myself. Undeniably great, top-ten certainly, but I would have picked John Lennon at #2, just ahead of Dylan and Elvis. As it is, Rolling Stone has him at #5, so it's not as if he's slighted. And that's my point: the list has all the right people just about where they should be. They have Elvis at #3 and Dylan at #7 so again, they are in the ballpark. I would have dropped Sam Cooke a few notches - Rolling Stone has him at #4 - not because I don't love his voice but because his songs in the rock and roll genre, while quite good, aren't overwhelming. He wasn't around long enough to build up the body of work a #4 should have and besides, his greatest singing was done during his days singing pure gospel with The Soul Stirrers.
Al Green gets his due at #14 though I would have switched Green's place on Rolling Stone's list with Otis Redding, who comes in at #8. Al Green was sui generis, there's never been anyone like him. Otis, as great as he was, had a tendency to worry his songs to death. Had he lived longer, I expect he would have discovered the value of restraint in his singing and challenged for the #1 spot. That's how great his voice was. (Oh my, I'm just rereading this before posting and that last line I wrote is nearly the title of what I consider his greatest song, "That's How Strong My Love Is." I wasn't even trying for an allusion there but I got it. Heh.)
Some people on the list don't deserve to be anywhere near it. Some day a generation will look back on #47 Jim Morrison, see through the hype, and recognize him for what he really was - an egotistical, no-talent hack, with an overblown and pretentious vocal style beyond all reason or taste. Until then we must all endure. The Doors had a few top-forty hits during their time but they weren't the be-all-and-end-all people make them out to be now. Their real popularity came later, after Jim Morrison was dead and his myth was created. But that's all it is, a myth. The music is there to listen to, if anyone really cares to. Had he lived, I'm certain The Doors would have faded from sight within a few years and would just be a footnote in rock and roll history.
There are two glaring problems with the list. To begin with, how can Rolling Stone rank Robert Plant, at #15, ahead of Mick Jagger, at #16? Besides The Beatles, The Stones are the only band that could possibly make a claim to the greatest in history. And Mick Jagger's voice was the most distinguishable part of the band. He's great, a voice made for rock and roll, perfect for the type of music he sang. It's one of the touchstones of rock and roll, that voice. Robert Plant was a screamer, an effective on to be sure, but no way can he be compared to Mick Jagger. This was a bad miss by Rolling Stone and by ranking the one immediately ahead the other, they made sure everyone noticed.
The final bad call is similarly glaring, and the biggest outrage in my book: Van Morrison at #24, with David Bowie ahead of Van at #23. Excuse me? Van Morrison is one of the all-timers. The man has a voice for the ages and he's been proving it for almost fifty years now - he is still making terrific music and exploring new territory with his vocals. Like Mick Jagger (and like Dylan) the most distinguishable thing about Van's music is his voice. To me, he's a top-five pick (so there's my top five: Aretha, Lennon, Dylan, Elvis, Van.) I understand he's not for everyone so I'll accept him ranked somewhat lower, but please, #24 with David Bowie (!!) ahead of him? What are David Bowie's great vocal performances. Does he have anything that can even touch "Madame George" or "Cyprus Avenue" or "Listen to the Lion"? Even on a minor song like "Cul De Sac" (which admittedly after forty years I still have no idea what it's about but hey, with Van, that's part of the charm), he's spectacular. Listen to it whole but pay particular attention to the scream at about the 4:56 mark - it's one of the greatest screams in rock and roll history and it blows Rolling Stones rankings right out the door. Thank you.
[audio:CulDeSac.mp3]
Likewise, I won't argue with Ray Charles at #2, though I wouldn't have put him there myself. Undeniably great, top-ten certainly, but I would have picked John Lennon at #2, just ahead of Dylan and Elvis. As it is, Rolling Stone has him at #5, so it's not as if he's slighted. And that's my point: the list has all the right people just about where they should be. They have Elvis at #3 and Dylan at #7 so again, they are in the ballpark. I would have dropped Sam Cooke a few notches - Rolling Stone has him at #4 - not because I don't love his voice but because his songs in the rock and roll genre, while quite good, aren't overwhelming. He wasn't around long enough to build up the body of work a #4 should have and besides, his greatest singing was done during his days singing pure gospel with The Soul Stirrers.
Al Green gets his due at #14 though I would have switched Green's place on Rolling Stone's list with Otis Redding, who comes in at #8. Al Green was sui generis, there's never been anyone like him. Otis, as great as he was, had a tendency to worry his songs to death. Had he lived longer, I expect he would have discovered the value of restraint in his singing and challenged for the #1 spot. That's how great his voice was. (Oh my, I'm just rereading this before posting and that last line I wrote is nearly the title of what I consider his greatest song, "That's How Strong My Love Is." I wasn't even trying for an allusion there but I got it. Heh.)
Some people on the list don't deserve to be anywhere near it. Some day a generation will look back on #47 Jim Morrison, see through the hype, and recognize him for what he really was - an egotistical, no-talent hack, with an overblown and pretentious vocal style beyond all reason or taste. Until then we must all endure. The Doors had a few top-forty hits during their time but they weren't the be-all-and-end-all people make them out to be now. Their real popularity came later, after Jim Morrison was dead and his myth was created. But that's all it is, a myth. The music is there to listen to, if anyone really cares to. Had he lived, I'm certain The Doors would have faded from sight within a few years and would just be a footnote in rock and roll history.
There are two glaring problems with the list. To begin with, how can Rolling Stone rank Robert Plant, at #15, ahead of Mick Jagger, at #16? Besides The Beatles, The Stones are the only band that could possibly make a claim to the greatest in history. And Mick Jagger's voice was the most distinguishable part of the band. He's great, a voice made for rock and roll, perfect for the type of music he sang. It's one of the touchstones of rock and roll, that voice. Robert Plant was a screamer, an effective on to be sure, but no way can he be compared to Mick Jagger. This was a bad miss by Rolling Stone and by ranking the one immediately ahead the other, they made sure everyone noticed.
The final bad call is similarly glaring, and the biggest outrage in my book: Van Morrison at #24, with David Bowie ahead of Van at #23. Excuse me? Van Morrison is one of the all-timers. The man has a voice for the ages and he's been proving it for almost fifty years now - he is still making terrific music and exploring new territory with his vocals. Like Mick Jagger (and like Dylan) the most distinguishable thing about Van's music is his voice. To me, he's a top-five pick (so there's my top five: Aretha, Lennon, Dylan, Elvis, Van.) I understand he's not for everyone so I'll accept him ranked somewhat lower, but please, #24 with David Bowie (!!) ahead of him? What are David Bowie's great vocal performances. Does he have anything that can even touch "Madame George" or "Cyprus Avenue" or "Listen to the Lion"? Even on a minor song like "Cul De Sac" (which admittedly after forty years I still have no idea what it's about but hey, with Van, that's part of the charm), he's spectacular. Listen to it whole but pay particular attention to the scream at about the 4:56 mark - it's one of the greatest screams in rock and roll history and it blows Rolling Stones rankings right out the door. Thank you.
[audio:CulDeSac.mp3]
Christmas Movies
I watched The Red Shoes last night, skipping Meet Me in St. Louis, which was playing on TCM. I love Meet Me in St. Louis, especially the music, but I've had The Red Shoes recorded for awhile now and one of my goals this weekend was to watch it. So I did, assuming there would be other opportunities to see Meet Me in St. Louis over the next few weeks - it's one of the great Christmas movies. And it has my favorites Christmas song, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." I think I mentioned that in one of my very early posts on this blog. Terry Teachout did catch Meet Me in St. Louis last night and he posted the following tweets while watching:
I agree with those opinions. Nothing makes me feel like Christmas more than hearing Frank Sinatra singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." It conjures up memories from my childhood like no other Christmas music, not even Johnny Mathis' original Christmas album, which my father played constantly during the Christmas season.
I should have recorded Meet Me in St. Louis but I'm running short on DVR space and I wanted to record some others coming up today, including my favorite Christmas movie, The Shop Around The Corner. You want a great Jimmy Stewart Christmas movie, there's your ticket. It's A Wonderful Life is okay, I suppose, but it never really did much for me. On the other hand, The Shop Around The Corner is a perfect little gem, a beautifully told story with not a line out of place or a moment that's missed. It has humor and drama and romance, and it has one of Jimmy Stewart's finest performances. Of course, it was directed by the great Ernst Lubitsch and if you've heard about the famous "Lubitsch Touch," that combination of grace, elegance, wit, and charm, you won't find it in more abundance than here. It's on TCM this morning at 10:15 but if you miss this run it plays often on TCM during the Christmas season so there will be other opportunities. Just to give you a taste, here is a clip of the first few minutes. See how brilliantly all the characters are in introduced. Within minutes, we've already formed opinions about them:
[youtube]ixppr_TVQHY[/youtube]
I also recorded Roman Holiday and The Lady Eve, neither one Christmas movies but movies I'll happily watch again during this Christmas season. I've got a lot of time off between now and the new year and I traditionally watch a lot of movies during this period. This year will be no different.
As for last night's The Red Shoes, it is very well done. I didn't think a backstage drama about ballet could keep my interest for over two hours but it did. Powell and Pressburger film the ballet scenes with great skill, making it a movie rather than just a film of a stage performance. The acting are fine, especially Anton Walbrook as the dictatorial director, and Moira Shearer is lovely and an awfully talented dancer. My reservation with the movie is the end and what leads to the end. SPOILER ALERT!! The character Ms. Shearer plays is so down to earth, has such a level head, it seems implausible that she'd fling herself out a window in a suicidal act. It comes out of nowhere, even though we know it's coming. Perhaps they should have made her less lovely, shown how much dancing meant to her, rather than have her mouth the words. She doesn't have the glint in her eye when she talks about her dancing, that monomaniacal passion that the great ones have. We don't get that without dancing her life is meaningless. She has to choose between her lover and her dancing but we never get the feeling that dancing is everything to her. So she jumps to her death. The irony, of course, is that Moira Sheater was one of the greatest ballet dancers of her time - she undoubtedly had what it took to convey those feelings. Still, it's not a reason not to watch the movie. It's terrific in all ways except that slight misstep of characterization.
Every musician I know thinks that "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" is a perfect song--and so do I.
The tune is as good as anything that Schubert or Brahms ever wrote.
I agree with those opinions. Nothing makes me feel like Christmas more than hearing Frank Sinatra singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." It conjures up memories from my childhood like no other Christmas music, not even Johnny Mathis' original Christmas album, which my father played constantly during the Christmas season.
I should have recorded Meet Me in St. Louis but I'm running short on DVR space and I wanted to record some others coming up today, including my favorite Christmas movie, The Shop Around The Corner. You want a great Jimmy Stewart Christmas movie, there's your ticket. It's A Wonderful Life is okay, I suppose, but it never really did much for me. On the other hand, The Shop Around The Corner is a perfect little gem, a beautifully told story with not a line out of place or a moment that's missed. It has humor and drama and romance, and it has one of Jimmy Stewart's finest performances. Of course, it was directed by the great Ernst Lubitsch and if you've heard about the famous "Lubitsch Touch," that combination of grace, elegance, wit, and charm, you won't find it in more abundance than here. It's on TCM this morning at 10:15 but if you miss this run it plays often on TCM during the Christmas season so there will be other opportunities. Just to give you a taste, here is a clip of the first few minutes. See how brilliantly all the characters are in introduced. Within minutes, we've already formed opinions about them:
[youtube]ixppr_TVQHY[/youtube]
I also recorded Roman Holiday and The Lady Eve, neither one Christmas movies but movies I'll happily watch again during this Christmas season. I've got a lot of time off between now and the new year and I traditionally watch a lot of movies during this period. This year will be no different.
As for last night's The Red Shoes, it is very well done. I didn't think a backstage drama about ballet could keep my interest for over two hours but it did. Powell and Pressburger film the ballet scenes with great skill, making it a movie rather than just a film of a stage performance. The acting are fine, especially Anton Walbrook as the dictatorial director, and Moira Shearer is lovely and an awfully talented dancer. My reservation with the movie is the end and what leads to the end. SPOILER ALERT!! The character Ms. Shearer plays is so down to earth, has such a level head, it seems implausible that she'd fling herself out a window in a suicidal act. It comes out of nowhere, even though we know it's coming. Perhaps they should have made her less lovely, shown how much dancing meant to her, rather than have her mouth the words. She doesn't have the glint in her eye when she talks about her dancing, that monomaniacal passion that the great ones have. We don't get that without dancing her life is meaningless. She has to choose between her lover and her dancing but we never get the feeling that dancing is everything to her. So she jumps to her death. The irony, of course, is that Moira Sheater was one of the greatest ballet dancers of her time - she undoubtedly had what it took to convey those feelings. Still, it's not a reason not to watch the movie. It's terrific in all ways except that slight misstep of characterization.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Christmas Rituals
I don't have many but putting up the tree while listening to The Robert Shaw Chamber Singers Songs of Angels is one of them. Unfortunately this joyful task was rudely interrupted this morning by - what else? - a strand on lights on the tree going dark. Now I need to go buy a new strand before I can start hanging the ornaments. Plus I have to get the oil changed in my car. And do the grocery shopping. And start Christmas shopping. And go to the pet store to get food for the two boys. So I guess I should get started rather than writing useless blog posts.
Just to give you something worthwhile, here is a taste of the glorious music I listened to this morning:
[audio:OComeOComeEmmanuel.mp3]
Just to give you something worthwhile, here is a taste of the glorious music I listened to this morning:
[audio:OComeOComeEmmanuel.mp3]
Friday, December 10, 2010
New Theme
I got tired of the old one. When I first saw it I thought it looked clean and professional. But after awhile it was just boring. This theme, iNove from Wordpress, is pretty neat. There are a few others that I liked but iNove won out, probably because it supported everything I'd already developed. Anyhow, I've got a new personality. Yes, yes, I know - I needed one. Enjoy!!
UPDATE: I lasted about ten minutes with the iNove theme. I decided it was just too busy. Too interesting. The look of it overwhelmed all the fascinating things I have to say. The theme you're seeing now is one of the competitors I mentioned above, the Copyblogger theme for Wordpress. I like it. I think. We'll see.
UPDATE: I lasted about ten minutes with the iNove theme. I decided it was just too busy. Too interesting. The look of it overwhelmed all the fascinating things I have to say. The theme you're seeing now is one of the competitors I mentioned above, the Copyblogger theme for Wordpress. I like it. I think. We'll see.
Local Hero
Readers of this blog know how self-satisfied I get when I find that someone I respect agrees with me. You'd think at this advanced age I wouldn't need such validation. At any rate, reading The Bleat this morning, as I do every Mon.-Fri. morning, I find that James Lileks agrees with me on the wonders of Local Hero. I took my wife to see it on one of our first dates and it's always stuck with me. It's the story of a successful....er, wait a minute. Let me check something....
Okay, back. I guess I'm getting to the point in this blog where I start repeating myself. It occurred to me mid-sentence above that I've already blogged about how much I love the movie. Not much more to add, except that, if you love movie magic, that mystical, bewitching, feeling only a great movie can provide, see Local Hero. One of Lileks' commenters states:
Here is that marvelous final scene, along with the 2:26 moment that Lileks describes (though it arrives at the 2:16 mark in this video):
[youtube]JPuj9_94TBQ[/youtube]
Okay, back. I guess I'm getting to the point in this blog where I start repeating myself. It occurred to me mid-sentence above that I've already blogged about how much I love the movie. Not much more to add, except that, if you love movie magic, that mystical, bewitching, feeling only a great movie can provide, see Local Hero. One of Lileks' commenters states:
I think there are two kinds of people in the world: those who watch the final scene of Local Hero and either think “I don’t get it” or “that’s nice,” and those who almost gasp at the emotional impact of seeing a phone booth in a small Scottish fishing village, hearing the ring of the phone, and >get it<.
Here is that marvelous final scene, along with the 2:26 moment that Lileks describes (though it arrives at the 2:16 mark in this video):
[youtube]JPuj9_94TBQ[/youtube]
Excerpt
"I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York’s skyline. Particularly when one can’t see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? And then people tell me about pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel."
Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead
Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
It Was Thirty Years Ago Today...
,...that John Lennon was murdered, announced live to the nation by Howard Cosell during a Monday Night Football broadcast. Within minutes of the confirmation I got a phone call from a friend who knew of my love for The Beatles' music but I was so distraught I couldn't talk. I was twenty-two years old and The Beatles, and especially John Lennon, were my musical heroes. I was very shaken up, the way a young person would be when confronted with the death of someone they figured would be around forever. I spent the few weeks afterwards writing a twenty page tribute to the man and his music. It's still somewhere around here, in a box downstairs buried deep among many other boxes.
One of the things I stated in that paper was my conviction that John Lennon was the primary reason for the band's success, the musical force that put it all together. It was his toughness, his cold-blooded thirst to make good music, that mattered. Without Lennon, Paul McCartney was (is) a talented pop-star. With Lennon adding the necessary edge to Paul's sweetness, they were titans. It can be argued the other way, I admit. Paul's pop-music mentality and keener sense of melody smoothed out some of Lennon's jagged edges. Alone, as their post-Beatle careers prove, they were one-dimensional and somewhat limited musicians who occasionally produced sparks of brilliance. Together, they stormed the world.
I don't have much time tonight to flesh out my thoughts here but I do want to say that it always baffled me about Lennon's leftism. As a kid, during the movies and interviews, he always seemed to be having a ball and laughing at the entire Beatles spectacle as if he knew it was absurd. He seemed like a man who saw the world as it was, a man of few illusions. How could he fall for all the socialist shibboleths?
I blamed Yoko, and I'm still convinced she had something to do with him turning more political. By the time of his death however, he was no political activist. He was a stay-at-home dad, concerned primarily with his family and their well-being. Fatherhood and experience had forced him to grow up.
I say all of this as an introduction to this column by Jordan Michael Smith in The American Conservative in which he dredges up an interview Lennon gave to Playboy a few weeks before he was murdered. In the interview, Lennon says some things which make it clear he had left his leftist illusions behind:
How many current pop-stars have that kind of realism, to admit that these events they put on do little good? Probably some of them realize it but which of them would admit it?
And then this:
That's the clear-eyed realist I always thought he was. Read the whole thing because their is much more. The interview shows a man who'd grown up, who was facing the world with a new attitude, and who was finally comfortable in his own skin. Things were much simpler for him now: he was happiest spending time with his wife and child. John Lennon was always a work-in-progress (aren't we all?) The saddest part about his murder had nothing to do with us. It had to do with his wife and his child and himself, his life cut short just as he'd arrived at a moment of peace and contentment.
One of the things I stated in that paper was my conviction that John Lennon was the primary reason for the band's success, the musical force that put it all together. It was his toughness, his cold-blooded thirst to make good music, that mattered. Without Lennon, Paul McCartney was (is) a talented pop-star. With Lennon adding the necessary edge to Paul's sweetness, they were titans. It can be argued the other way, I admit. Paul's pop-music mentality and keener sense of melody smoothed out some of Lennon's jagged edges. Alone, as their post-Beatle careers prove, they were one-dimensional and somewhat limited musicians who occasionally produced sparks of brilliance. Together, they stormed the world.
I don't have much time tonight to flesh out my thoughts here but I do want to say that it always baffled me about Lennon's leftism. As a kid, during the movies and interviews, he always seemed to be having a ball and laughing at the entire Beatles spectacle as if he knew it was absurd. He seemed like a man who saw the world as it was, a man of few illusions. How could he fall for all the socialist shibboleths?
I blamed Yoko, and I'm still convinced she had something to do with him turning more political. By the time of his death however, he was no political activist. He was a stay-at-home dad, concerned primarily with his family and their well-being. Fatherhood and experience had forced him to grow up.
I say all of this as an introduction to this column by Jordan Michael Smith in The American Conservative in which he dredges up an interview Lennon gave to Playboy a few weeks before he was murdered. In the interview, Lennon says some things which make it clear he had left his leftist illusions behind:
When it was pointed out that a Beatles reunion could possibly raise $200 million for a poverty-stricken country in South America, Lennon had no time for it. “You know, America has poured billions into places like that. It doesn’t mean a damn thing. After they’ve eaten that meal, then what? It lasts for only a day. After the $200,000,000 is gone, then what? It goes round and round in circles.” It’s a critique of foreign aid readers of P.T. Bauer would be familiar with. “You can pour money in forever. After Peru, then Harlem, then Britain. There is no one concert. We would have to dedicate the rest of our lives to one world concert tour, and I’m not ready for it.”
How many current pop-stars have that kind of realism, to admit that these events they put on do little good? Probably some of them realize it but which of them would admit it?
And then this:
I dabbled in so-called politics in the late Sixties and Seventies more out of guilt than anything,” he revealed. “Guilt for being rich, and guilt thinking that perhaps love and peace isn’t enough and you have to go and get shot or something, or get punched in the face, to prove I’m one of the people. I was doing it against my instincts.
“The hardest thing is facing yourself,” he told Rolling Stone. “It’s easier to shout ‘Revolution’ and ‘Power to the people’ than it is to look at yourself and try to find out what’s real inside you and what isn’t, when you’re pulling the wool over your own eyes. That’s the hardest one.””
That's the clear-eyed realist I always thought he was. Read the whole thing because their is much more. The interview shows a man who'd grown up, who was facing the world with a new attitude, and who was finally comfortable in his own skin. Things were much simpler for him now: he was happiest spending time with his wife and child. John Lennon was always a work-in-progress (aren't we all?) The saddest part about his murder had nothing to do with us. It had to do with his wife and his child and himself, his life cut short just as he'd arrived at a moment of peace and contentment.
Friday, December 3, 2010
My Favorite Mozart
A simply marvelous performance of Mozart's best Piano Concerto (i.e. my favorite) #20, in D minor. I've listened to a dozen different performances over the years but this is the finest. Ivan Klánský, the pianist, is weird and wonderful; he plays this piece like he owns it. Here is the first movement in two parts. Enjoy.
[youtube]TKW83XXnveA[/youtube]
[youtube]OjL1kD0h7QY[/youtube]
[youtube]TKW83XXnveA[/youtube]
[youtube]OjL1kD0h7QY[/youtube]
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The Day After Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving Day was fine. We gathered out in Front Royal, VA. with my wife's family, as per tradition. A few people couldn't make it but we still had a crowd, close to thirty people, some of whom we hadn't seen in awhile. A good time was had by all.
Yesterday, the day after, was even finer. My wife and I stayed in the living room all day long reading, her in the chair, me on the couch. We listened to no radio, watched no television, read no blogs, did no posting. We did take a two-mile walk around 4 o'clock just to shake out the cobwebs but other than that it was a lazy, do-nothing day. Being a lazy do-nothing in general, I love those kind of days. Neither of us wanted to do anything more than read our books, her Laura Hillenbrand's brand new Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption, me Paul Johnson's A History of Christianity, which I'm reading in conjunction with listening to The Teaching Company course, The Catholic Church: A History. Hillenbrand, who wrote the terrific Seabiscuit, apparently has another winner: my baby couldn't put it down, gobbling it up in a couple of days.
As for me, this particular autodidact is realizing that he has lots of gaps in his learning, among them Christian and Catholic Church history and theology, so I've set out to do something about it. I'll follow this Teaching Co. course with another that looks brilliant: History of Christian Theology. So far I'm enjoying both the book and course immensely. Paul Johnson has always been one of my favorite historians - I've read ten of his books - so picking his history in this case was an easy call. Besides, I purchased it years ago and it's been sitting downstairs on my bookshelf, patiently waiting to be picked up. Johnson is a master of synthesis, which one must be to condense 2000+ years of Christian history to a little over 500 pages. Each sentence in this book seems loaded with information, and Johnson can satisfactorily summarize the arguments about particular points of doctrine, many that went on for centuries, in a few succinct paragraphs. It does mean that one must read carefully, slowly, to catch everything Johnson is trying to convey.
I also knew I couldn't go wrong with Professor Cook, the instructor for the Teaching Co. course, having previously listened to his course on Dante and The Divine Comedy. He is unfailingly interesting. (As a sidebar my wife and I have also begun watching his DVD series on The Cathedral - ain't we cultured!)
But I am digressing from my main point: yesterday was a lovely day, spent in the company of my wife, a good book, and also, late in the evening, some good music. My eyes got heavy and I knew sleep would come soon if I continued to read so I closed the book and popped in my iPod earphones and listened to some Beethoven, Bruch, Bach, and Schubert. Then to bed. Today it's back to real life. Many of us are heading downtown to visit the World War II memorial and tonight we will gather for dinner to celebrate a birthday. Hope you're enjoying the holiday break as much as I am.
Yesterday, the day after, was even finer. My wife and I stayed in the living room all day long reading, her in the chair, me on the couch. We listened to no radio, watched no television, read no blogs, did no posting. We did take a two-mile walk around 4 o'clock just to shake out the cobwebs but other than that it was a lazy, do-nothing day. Being a lazy do-nothing in general, I love those kind of days. Neither of us wanted to do anything more than read our books, her Laura Hillenbrand's brand new Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption, me Paul Johnson's A History of Christianity, which I'm reading in conjunction with listening to The Teaching Company course, The Catholic Church: A History. Hillenbrand, who wrote the terrific Seabiscuit, apparently has another winner: my baby couldn't put it down, gobbling it up in a couple of days.
As for me, this particular autodidact is realizing that he has lots of gaps in his learning, among them Christian and Catholic Church history and theology, so I've set out to do something about it. I'll follow this Teaching Co. course with another that looks brilliant: History of Christian Theology. So far I'm enjoying both the book and course immensely. Paul Johnson has always been one of my favorite historians - I've read ten of his books - so picking his history in this case was an easy call. Besides, I purchased it years ago and it's been sitting downstairs on my bookshelf, patiently waiting to be picked up. Johnson is a master of synthesis, which one must be to condense 2000+ years of Christian history to a little over 500 pages. Each sentence in this book seems loaded with information, and Johnson can satisfactorily summarize the arguments about particular points of doctrine, many that went on for centuries, in a few succinct paragraphs. It does mean that one must read carefully, slowly, to catch everything Johnson is trying to convey.
I also knew I couldn't go wrong with Professor Cook, the instructor for the Teaching Co. course, having previously listened to his course on Dante and The Divine Comedy. He is unfailingly interesting. (As a sidebar my wife and I have also begun watching his DVD series on The Cathedral - ain't we cultured!)
But I am digressing from my main point: yesterday was a lovely day, spent in the company of my wife, a good book, and also, late in the evening, some good music. My eyes got heavy and I knew sleep would come soon if I continued to read so I closed the book and popped in my iPod earphones and listened to some Beethoven, Bruch, Bach, and Schubert. Then to bed. Today it's back to real life. Many of us are heading downtown to visit the World War II memorial and tonight we will gather for dinner to celebrate a birthday. Hope you're enjoying the holiday break as much as I am.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Excerpt
"...[I]t is easy to see that the moral sense has been bred out of certain sections of the population, like the wings have been bred off certain chickens to produce more white meat on them. This is a generation of wingless chickens, which I suppose is what Nietzsche meant when he said God was dead."
Flannery O'Connor, The Habit of Being, pg. 90
"[Neitzsche] saw God not as as an invention but as a casualty, and his demise as in some important sense an historical event, which would have dramatic consequences. He wrote in 1886: 'The greatest belief in recent times - that "God is Dead", that the belief in the Christian God in no longer tenable - is beginning to cast its first shadows over Europe.' Among the advanced races, the decline and ultimately the collapse of the religious impulse would leave a huge vacuum. The history of modern times is in great part the history of how that vacuum has been filled."
Paul Johnson, Modern Times, pg. 48
Flannery O'Connor, The Habit of Being, pg. 90
"[Neitzsche] saw God not as as an invention but as a casualty, and his demise as in some important sense an historical event, which would have dramatic consequences. He wrote in 1886: 'The greatest belief in recent times - that "God is Dead", that the belief in the Christian God in no longer tenable - is beginning to cast its first shadows over Europe.' Among the advanced races, the decline and ultimately the collapse of the religious impulse would leave a huge vacuum. The history of modern times is in great part the history of how that vacuum has been filled."
Paul Johnson, Modern Times, pg. 48
Friday, November 19, 2010
Excerpt
"I believe that the writer's moral sense must coincide with his dramatic sense and this means that moral judgement has to be implicit in the act of vision. Let me make no bones about it: I write from the standpoint of Christian orthodoxy. Nothing is more repulsive to me than the idea of myself setting up a little universe of my own choosing and propounding a little immoralistic message. I write with a solid belief in all the Christian dogmas. I find that this in no way limits my freedom as a writer and that it increases rather than decreases my vision. It is popular to believe that in order to see clearly one must believe nothing. This may work well enough if you are observing cells under a microscope. It will not work if you are writing fiction. For the fiction writer, to believe nothing is to see nothing."
-Flannery O'Connor, from The Habit of Being, pg. 147
-Flannery O'Connor, from The Habit of Being, pg. 147
So I Was Rereading Kierkegaard...
“I suppose I read Aristotle in college but not to know I was doing it; the same with Plato. I don’t have the kind of mind that can carry such beyond the actual reading, i.e., total non-retention has kept my education from being a burden to me. So I couldn’t make any judgment on the Summa, except to say this: I read it for about twenty minutes every night before I go to bed. If my mother were to come in during the process and say, `Turn off that light. It’s late,’ I with lifted finger and broad bland beatific expression, would reply, `On the contrary, I answer that the light, being eternal and limitless, cannot be turned off. Shut your eyes,’ or some such thing."
-Flannery O'Connor, The Habit of Being
I read Ms. O'Connor's marvelous collection of letters years ago and you can find it on my bookshelves heavily highlighted with a yellow marker. Indeed, there is a terrific quote on every page. I did not remember this one, and that goes right to the heart of this post - like Ms. O'Connor, I don't remember much of what I read. Rather, the quote was called to my attention by Patrick Kurp over at Anecdotal Evidence - read his entire post. I got a kick out of the quote because it's the first time I've thought of my own aptitude of non-retention as a gift rather than a curse, something I should be glad of. Otherwise, we'd all end up being insufferable bores, quoting the Summa Theologica, right?
I read constantly: books, magazines, blogs, etc. And I read smart people, good writers, great polemicists, experts in their fields. For years I have thought that if I could only recall a tiny percentage of what I read I'd be able to hold my own in any conversation or argument, whether it be about politics, history, literature, movies, music. People would find me interesting. Problem is, I retain next to nothing. I feel really smart while I'm reading someone really smart. Two hours later I'm a dummy again. I've come to realize (actually I realized it long ago) that it's only through long and varied engagement with a subject that one can become conversant in it, can really know it.
Kurp also claims to be "blessedly unburdened by my education. The university was no more than an intellectual match-making service, an instrument of exposure – to writers and a large library that permitted me to read them." This recalled for me a passage from Joseph Epstein from the chapter on higher education in his book Snobbery: The American Version: "Most people come away from college, happy souls, quite unscarred by what has gone on in the classroom. The education and culture they are presumably exposed to in college never lay a glove on them."
So I guess I do recall some things, but the point is, I had to look it up. Epstein's book is open on the table in front of me right now, and only because I'd read the passage recently and the book was still on the dining room table in the next room. If I had to go downstairs and rummage through multiple Epstein books trying to find the exact quotation for this blog post, well, forget about it. I am far too lazy to be constantly looking things up in books just so you might find my post interesting. And that's where the Internet comes into play, and Google. By recalling that someone said something interesting about a subject once, I can google it and come up with the quote in no time, then cut and paste it into my post. Reading the passage might remind me of something else that someone else once said. So I google that. And so on. Before you know it, I have a post put together that I'm satisified with and which a few people might find interesting. People might think I'm the intelligent one, whereas all the knowledge in this post comes from Mr. Kurp, a really smart man, Joseph Epstein, one of the finest minds of our time, and Flannery O'Connor, one of the best writers America has ever produced.
This post's title comes from Robert Greenberg in a lecture from his terrific Teaching Company course How to Listen to and Understand Great Music. During one of the digressions that are part of what makes him such an interesting instructor, Mr. Greenberg advises the listener that if they are ever confronted with a snob at a cocktail party, the way to impress them is to mention, not that you're reading Kierkegaard, but that you are rereading him, and to say it in the most pretentious voice possible. Another possibility is to say, not that you were listening to Mozart's G Minor Symphony, but that you were listening to Mozart's Köchel 550, again in an preposterously highbrow voice. My wife and I still use that example whenever we run across a snob. It's great fun.
Of course, as Mr. Epstein argues, we all have varying degrees of snobbery in us. So now, back to Kierkegaard....
-Flannery O'Connor, The Habit of Being
I read Ms. O'Connor's marvelous collection of letters years ago and you can find it on my bookshelves heavily highlighted with a yellow marker. Indeed, there is a terrific quote on every page. I did not remember this one, and that goes right to the heart of this post - like Ms. O'Connor, I don't remember much of what I read. Rather, the quote was called to my attention by Patrick Kurp over at Anecdotal Evidence - read his entire post. I got a kick out of the quote because it's the first time I've thought of my own aptitude of non-retention as a gift rather than a curse, something I should be glad of. Otherwise, we'd all end up being insufferable bores, quoting the Summa Theologica, right?
I read constantly: books, magazines, blogs, etc. And I read smart people, good writers, great polemicists, experts in their fields. For years I have thought that if I could only recall a tiny percentage of what I read I'd be able to hold my own in any conversation or argument, whether it be about politics, history, literature, movies, music. People would find me interesting. Problem is, I retain next to nothing. I feel really smart while I'm reading someone really smart. Two hours later I'm a dummy again. I've come to realize (actually I realized it long ago) that it's only through long and varied engagement with a subject that one can become conversant in it, can really know it.
Kurp also claims to be "blessedly unburdened by my education. The university was no more than an intellectual match-making service, an instrument of exposure – to writers and a large library that permitted me to read them." This recalled for me a passage from Joseph Epstein from the chapter on higher education in his book Snobbery: The American Version: "Most people come away from college, happy souls, quite unscarred by what has gone on in the classroom. The education and culture they are presumably exposed to in college never lay a glove on them."
So I guess I do recall some things, but the point is, I had to look it up. Epstein's book is open on the table in front of me right now, and only because I'd read the passage recently and the book was still on the dining room table in the next room. If I had to go downstairs and rummage through multiple Epstein books trying to find the exact quotation for this blog post, well, forget about it. I am far too lazy to be constantly looking things up in books just so you might find my post interesting. And that's where the Internet comes into play, and Google. By recalling that someone said something interesting about a subject once, I can google it and come up with the quote in no time, then cut and paste it into my post. Reading the passage might remind me of something else that someone else once said. So I google that. And so on. Before you know it, I have a post put together that I'm satisified with and which a few people might find interesting. People might think I'm the intelligent one, whereas all the knowledge in this post comes from Mr. Kurp, a really smart man, Joseph Epstein, one of the finest minds of our time, and Flannery O'Connor, one of the best writers America has ever produced.
This post's title comes from Robert Greenberg in a lecture from his terrific Teaching Company course How to Listen to and Understand Great Music. During one of the digressions that are part of what makes him such an interesting instructor, Mr. Greenberg advises the listener that if they are ever confronted with a snob at a cocktail party, the way to impress them is to mention, not that you're reading Kierkegaard, but that you are rereading him, and to say it in the most pretentious voice possible. Another possibility is to say, not that you were listening to Mozart's G Minor Symphony, but that you were listening to Mozart's Köchel 550, again in an preposterously highbrow voice. My wife and I still use that example whenever we run across a snob. It's great fun.
Of course, as Mr. Epstein argues, we all have varying degrees of snobbery in us. So now, back to Kierkegaard....
My Fifteen Favorite Beatles Songs
Since Apple announced that The Beatles' catalog is now available on iTunes, there's a new meme going round the Internet (started by Ann Powers, picked up by Alex Ross, where I found it): name your fifteen favorite Fab Four songs. I will submit my list with pleasure but with the caveat that The Beatles produced such a voluminous amount of high-quality music during their heyday that separating fifteen songs as 'favorites' is a difficult task. I could name fifty Beatles songs off the top of my head that I love and there is little difference in my feelings about #1 and #50. That stated, here goes, and in no particular order:
Again, I could go on and on with this list but I the songs above are probably the ones I listen to most, along with a hand full of others. Feel free to agree or disagree.
Oh, you're wondering about the Diane Keaton moment I mentioned above? See below, from the great, under-appreciated movie Shoot The Moon:
[youtube]2LBy7gbgXAk[/youtube]
- "I Saw Her Standing There": Paul McCartney kicks off the revolution with his marvelous "One, Two, Three, Fah!!"
- "There's A Place": The Beatles were accused of being lightweights due to the beauty of their melodies and vocals, but even that can't hide the sophistication of this song, both musically and lyrically ahead of its time. Perhaps their finest song?
- "Twist And Shout": The greatest scream in rock and roll history.
- "It Won't Be Long": Nothing to say, it's just great.
- "Money": Greil Marcus called it perhaps the toughest piece of rock and roll ever recorded, The Beatles answer to The Stones.
- "You've Really Got A Hold On Me": The only song on my list not written by a Beatle, a tribute to Smokey Robinson, one of the few people in rock and roll whose songwriting ability approached theirs. Smokey's version is fabulous; The Beatles' is better.
- "What You're Doing": An answer, in my opinion, to "Be My Baby", another tribute, this one to Phil Spector. Another contender for their best song.
- "If I Fell": Gorgeous, and the inspiration to Diane Keaton's finest moment as an actress.
- "Ticket To Ride": Ringo's finest moment.
- "I've Just Seen A Face": The intro to their best record, Rubber Soul, a tune impossible to get out of your head - not that you'd want to.
- "In My Life": Their finest love song, and sophisticated beyond just about any rock and roll up til then.
- "Nowhere Man": Scintillating vocal harmonies.
- "It's Only Love": My oh my.
- "I Should Have Known Better": My favorite song when I was eight years old, and I still love it. Reminds me of those days when we were so excited about the music.
- "Don't Let Me Down": The only post-Sgt Pepper song on my list, a great, bluesy triumph. Another statement ala "Money", in my opinion, from John Lennon, telling everyone that The Beatles could do anything they wanted when they wanted, and better than anyone else.
Again, I could go on and on with this list but I the songs above are probably the ones I listen to most, along with a hand full of others. Feel free to agree or disagree.
Oh, you're wondering about the Diane Keaton moment I mentioned above? See below, from the great, under-appreciated movie Shoot The Moon:
[youtube]2LBy7gbgXAk[/youtube]
Sunday, November 14, 2010
American Narcissus
Everyone else is talking about it so I might as well too: Jonathan Last's cover story on the latest issue of The Weekly Standard, American Narcissus, regarding you-know-who and his staggering self-regard. To reach the level of self-love Obama has one apparently must start cultivating it early:
Read the whole thing.
People have been noticing Obama’s vanity for a long time. In 2008, one of his Harvard Law classmates, the entertainment lawyer Jackie Fuchs, explained what Obama was like during his school days: “One of our classmates once famously noted that you could judge just how pretentious someone’s remarks in class were by how high they ranked on the ‘Obamanometer,’ a term that lasted far longer than our time at law school. Obama didn’t just share in class—he pontificated. He knew better than everyone else in the room, including the teachers. ”
Read the whole thing.
More Bach
I listened to Bach for hours last night, picking and choosing my favorites from the violin concertos, the Brandenburg concertos, the violin sonatas, the cello suites, and the cantatas. When I retired for the evening, my wife, who'd been upstairs working on the computer, told me she'd enjoyed listening very much. And this morning she asked for more. "What was that Bach you were listening to last night? I want to hear it again." There was a lot to choose from but I was pretty certain she wanted to hear this, the first movement from the 3rd Brandenburg. When it was over she said, "I think that was the beginning of rock and roll." Which made me laugh but you can see her point - if this doesn't make you move not much will. I'd always considered Beethoven the first rocker but maybe Bach had him beat by eighty years or so. Enjoy:
[audio:1-08ConcertoNo.3inGmajor.mp3]
[audio:1-08ConcertoNo.3inGmajor.mp3]
Excerpt
Bach's Chaconne is "not just one of the greatest pieces of music ever written, but one of the greatest achievements of any man in history. It's a spiritually powerful piece, emotionally powerful, structurally perfect....there's a religious, exalted feeling to it."
- Joshua Bell, from Gene Weingarten's Pearls Before Breakfast.
- Joshua Bell, from Gene Weingarten's Pearls Before Breakfast.
Interlude
Bach's Chaconne in two parts, by Viktoria Mullova, a tender, gentle, lovely rendition. Listen to it all, and then do it again. You'll come back for more, guaranteed:
[youtube]6VL9TFvYyKI[/youtube]
[youtube]cW1WXZqiQCM[/youtube]
[youtube]6VL9TFvYyKI[/youtube]
[youtube]cW1WXZqiQCM[/youtube]
Saturday, November 13, 2010
What Makes a Genius?
The word is thrown around lightly these days, isn't it? Anyone who is good at something inevitably gets called a 'genius' by one of their fans or admirers at some point. My own view, expressed in this space previously, is that most of what rightly is characterized as 'genius' is actually God-given talent improved and mastered by hard-work, extremely hard work. Tiger Woods and Jack Nicklaus had God-given talents which may be called genius, but they didn't just walk on the golf course and become the greatest golfers who ever lived. They worked hard, with focus and dedication, at their craft. Same goes for say, Dostoevsky or Flaubert, Dylan or Sinatra, Hitchcock or Bergman, etc. The great ones must work for it, in all cases. Those with 'genius' become renowned as the finest in their fields; those without it but who put in the work are the decent middle-tier journeymen who make up the vast majority of all professions; those with it but who don't put in the work are the sad-luck stories of what might have been.
Terry Teachout's column this in the Wall Street Journal this morning is about Andrew Robinson's new book, Sudden Genius: The Gradual Path to Creative Breakthroughs, which argues something similar to my point above. Hard work is necessary but their must be the spark of creative genius to begin with. Robinson and Teachout both reject the elitist notion that there is no such thing as genius. From Terry's column:
Mozart is the person most often thought of when we argue genius due to his prodigious and obvious gifts as a child. Rightly so. I would point out though, that the vast majority of what we now listen to of Mozart is his later work as a mature composer: his operas, piano concerti, chamber works and major symphonies all come from the Vienna days when he was past the age of twenty-five. He had the genius to start with, without question, and he wrote some fine music when he was young. But he developed that genius through years of hard work and became arguably the greatest composer of them all. If Mozart had died at the age fifteen rather than thirty-five, he'd be a little known curiosity today.
Also in the journal today as part of their Five Best series is David Thomson's First-Rate Tales Of Making Movies, which lists Pauline Kael's "The Citizen Kane Book" as one of those tales. I think he gets Kael and her intentions wrong though:
I've read "The Citizen Kane Book" many times, and as recently as a few months ago, and I've never gotten the feeling that Kael was trying to 'put the knife into Orson Welles and deflate what she regarded as an overrated film." On the contrary, she acknowledges the films greatness, and Welles'. Her point, it seems to me, is to undo an historical inaccuracy which gave Welles full-credit for the movie at the expense of Mankiewicz and others. If she's trying to deflate anything it is not the movie itself, but rather some of the overblown reverence for the movie that cites it as a masterpiece that transcends film itself. Rather, she was trying to fit it into its proper place in film history, at the pinnacle of the great screwball and newspaper traditions of the thirties. If she slights Welles at all, it's in not spending enough time on the story-telling and camera techniques that were new in "Citizen Kane." Thomson even admits that Kael's essay, "had the effect of drawing attention to the uncanny genius of Welles and his movie." How one draws attention to someone's uncanny genius while at the same time taking a knife to him is a mighty feat indeed, one I'm not sure even the brilliant Ms. Kael was capable of. And that Welles was some sort of genius is pretty much a given these days (for a delightful take on his genius rent the movie Me and Orson Welles, a fictional account of the making of Welles' historic Broadway production of "Julius Caesar") it does us no good to simply bow down to that genius and not look further into the man. It's too long to excerpt here but reading the final pages of Kael's essay finds her defending Welles from his undeserved reputation as a failure, as "the man who let everyone down":
Sounds more like an attempt at rehabilitation than deflation.
Terry Teachout's column this in the Wall Street Journal this morning is about Andrew Robinson's new book, Sudden Genius: The Gradual Path to Creative Breakthroughs, which argues something similar to my point above. Hard work is necessary but their must be the spark of creative genius to begin with. Robinson and Teachout both reject the elitist notion that there is no such thing as genius. From Terry's column:
It's easy to see why the Ericsson-Gladwell view of genius as a form of skill-based expertise has become so popular, for it meshes neatly with today's egalitarian notions of human potential. Moreover, there is much evidence for the validity—up to a point—of the 10,000-hour rule. My own favorite example is that of Charlie Parker, the father of bebop. As a teenager, he embarrassed himself by sitting in at Kansas City jam sessions before he had fully mastered the alto saxophone, thereby acquiring a citywide reputation for incompetence. In 1937 the humiliation overwhelmed him, and he took a summer job at a Missouri resort and began practicing in earnest for the first time in his life. Eight years later, he had metamorphosed into the glittering virtuoso who teamed up with Dizzy Gillespie to record "Ko-Ko," "Groovin' High" and "Salt Peanuts," thereby writing himself into the history of jazz.
The problem with the 10,000-hour rule is that many of its most ardent proponents are political ideologues who see the existence of genius as an affront to their vision of human equality, and will do anything to explain it away. They have a lot of explaining to do, starting with the case of Mozart. As Mr. Robinson points out, Nannerl, Mozart's older sister, was a gifted pianist who received the same intensive training as her better-known brother, yet she failed to develop as a composer. What stopped her? The simplest explanation is also the most persuasive one: He had something to say and she didn't. Or, to put it even more bluntly, he was a genius and she wasn't.
Mozart is the person most often thought of when we argue genius due to his prodigious and obvious gifts as a child. Rightly so. I would point out though, that the vast majority of what we now listen to of Mozart is his later work as a mature composer: his operas, piano concerti, chamber works and major symphonies all come from the Vienna days when he was past the age of twenty-five. He had the genius to start with, without question, and he wrote some fine music when he was young. But he developed that genius through years of hard work and became arguably the greatest composer of them all. If Mozart had died at the age fifteen rather than thirty-five, he'd be a little known curiosity today.
Also in the journal today as part of their Five Best series is David Thomson's First-Rate Tales Of Making Movies, which lists Pauline Kael's "The Citizen Kane Book" as one of those tales. I think he gets Kael and her intentions wrong though:
It's clear in "The Citizen Kane Book" that Pauline Kael meant to put the knife into Orson Welles and deflate what she regarded as an overrated film. So she set out to show how screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz had been cheated of proper praise and credit. Kael printed a draft script and the movie's final cutting-continuity instructions—both revelatory of Mankiewicz's vital role in forming the movie—along with an extended essay on the importance of smart, cynical writers in the 1930s and on the jazzy élan of America's best talking pictures. The book is unfair but riveting, and it had the effect of drawing attention to the uncanny genius of Welles and his movie, helping to establish it as the all-time champion in critics' polls. Scripts don't often read well, but "Citizen Kane" is an exception. The book, in addition to showing us how unkind Kael could be in her exhilaration, was the closest she came to publishing a full-length study, as opposed to her collected reviews.
I've read "The Citizen Kane Book" many times, and as recently as a few months ago, and I've never gotten the feeling that Kael was trying to 'put the knife into Orson Welles and deflate what she regarded as an overrated film." On the contrary, she acknowledges the films greatness, and Welles'. Her point, it seems to me, is to undo an historical inaccuracy which gave Welles full-credit for the movie at the expense of Mankiewicz and others. If she's trying to deflate anything it is not the movie itself, but rather some of the overblown reverence for the movie that cites it as a masterpiece that transcends film itself. Rather, she was trying to fit it into its proper place in film history, at the pinnacle of the great screwball and newspaper traditions of the thirties. If she slights Welles at all, it's in not spending enough time on the story-telling and camera techniques that were new in "Citizen Kane." Thomson even admits that Kael's essay, "had the effect of drawing attention to the uncanny genius of Welles and his movie." How one draws attention to someone's uncanny genius while at the same time taking a knife to him is a mighty feat indeed, one I'm not sure even the brilliant Ms. Kael was capable of. And that Welles was some sort of genius is pretty much a given these days (for a delightful take on his genius rent the movie Me and Orson Welles, a fictional account of the making of Welles' historic Broadway production of "Julius Caesar") it does us no good to simply bow down to that genius and not look further into the man. It's too long to excerpt here but reading the final pages of Kael's essay finds her defending Welles from his undeserved reputation as a failure, as "the man who let everyone down":
He has lived all his life in a cloud of failure because he hasn't lived up to what was unrealistically expected of him. No one has ever been able to do what was expected of Welles - to create a new radical theatre and to make one movie masterpiece after another - but Welles' "figurehead" publicity had snowballed to the point where all his actual and considerable achievements looked puny compare to what his destiny was supposed to be. In a less confused world, his glory would be greater than his guilt.
Sounds more like an attempt at rehabilitation than deflation.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
"Bloodbath...
...of a night for Democrats." That's what Politico called last Tuesday's election, as Peter Wehner details in this terrific post over at Contentions. To me, as I mentioned yesterday, perhaps the most important statistic is the Republican takeover at the state level:
This is rather amazing. A few years ago on this blog I was bemoaning the fact that the old Reaganite coalition had fallen apart and the future looked bleak for conservatism. Amazing what someone like Barack Obama can do. When it comes to reinvigorating the conservative movement, well, yes he can.
- Republicans picked up 680 seats in state legislatures, the most in the modern era. In the 1994 GOP wave, Republicans picked up 472 seats. The previous record was in the post-Watergate election of 1974, when Democrats picked up 628 seats. The GOP gained majorities in at least 19 state house chambers. They now have unified control — meaning both chambers — of 26 state legislatures. And across the country, Republicans now control 55 chambers, Democrats have 38, and two are tied. (The Nebraska legislature is unicameral.)
- Republicans have not enjoyed this much power in state capitals since the 1920s.
This is rather amazing. A few years ago on this blog I was bemoaning the fact that the old Reaganite coalition had fallen apart and the future looked bleak for conservatism. Amazing what someone like Barack Obama can do. When it comes to reinvigorating the conservative movement, well, yes he can.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Update
Yes, I've been scarce around here, but that's how it goes. I go through periods where I lose the urge to blog, or read, or watch sports, or....well, a lot of things. I've always been like that. Something seems fascinating, or at least interesting, for awhile, then a switch goes off and it becomes dull, ordinary. A little time off and it seems interesting again. Anyone else like that?
Clearly I'm in a don'tfeellikeblogging mood. Or have been. This morning I feel like it. No guarantees about tomorrow.
So, there was an election recently, right? Just kidding - the mid-terms took up most of my interest over the past few months. I'm afraid I, like a lot of conservatives, got caught up in the mega-wave fever and got my hopes too high. Election day itself was terrible. Work was a disaster, a stress-filled day of putting out fires. I voted immediately after work only to arrive home and find out that my brother had been rushed into emergency surgery (he's fine now.) And then the election results started coming in and....nothing. I had set up my computer with open pages to all my favorite blogs and political information sites, hoping to keep abreast of any breaking news. And, as I said, nothing. Around 7 pm I realized what was happening, or what was not happening: the mega-wave. Oh, it was a wave for sure, but that was already a given. By election day 60 house seats and 7-8 Senate seats were what everyone was predicting. But 80-90 seats and 10 Senate seats were clearly not going to come that night. Depression started to sink in and it continued on into the following morning.
It wasn't until Thursday morning that I began to feel better. Years from now when they write about this election they won't be talking about how many of us were disappointed with the results. They'll talk about the historic gains in the House, substantial gains in the Senate, but perhaps more importantly, the gains Republicans made in governorships and state houses. That's where the real landslide occurred, and a good deal of them in very important states, i.e. Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, West Virginia, Indiana, Wisconsin. The old rust belt states that are so important to control during presidential election years. Barack Obama's chances of getting re-elected went down last Tuesday, no doubt. Also, having control during the reapportionment will also help Republicans.
So, all in all, I feel much better about the election than I did the morning after. The important work is just starting though and we will see if the Republicans are up to it. But if I think about that too much depression will start to sink in again. So let's talk about other things.
NOTE: the depression thing is just a figure of speech. The proper term for what I was feeling election night and the day after is letdown. I don't think I've actually ever been depressed. My normal disposition is happy, content, and I can't keep it down for long. I can get mad, I can be sad, I can feel bad about something, but never for long. Not sure why I needed to point that out except I don't want to give anyone the impression that I'm the morose type. Far from it and God forbid.
What else? Well, we just got back from New York City again, our last night at the time share. We have a time share at The Manhattan Club at 56th and 7th Ave, kitty korner from Carnegie Hall, a few blocks from Central Park and Columbus Circle, close to Times Square, 5th Avenue, and the Upper West Side. We had no daytime plans when we woke up on Monday but just before we left home I found out that there is an Edward Hopper exhibit at the Whitney Museum at Madison and 75th. We'd never been to the Whitney and we like Hopper (we saw and enjoyed the Hopper exhibit here at the National Gallery a few years back). So we decided to go there. It had rained all morning in New York and while it had stopped by the time we arrived, it was still cloudy and windy. That's no problem. I love New York best in lovely spring weather but I love it at all times - it's personality changes with the weather. I always feel like I'm in a movie when I'm in New York. Cool, cloudy, and windy is just a different movie. So we bundled up and head up Madison, heads into the wind, taking our time, stopping at some of the chi-chi stores along the way. My wife and I agreed that they make all the clothes in these stores for tall, slim, young people. We'd look a bit ridiculous in most of the styles on display, though my baby could still pull some of them off, minus the ridiculously high heels. She pointed out to me that all the women were wearing the tall boots that went up to the knee, usually over some sort of leggings. She likes the style so we stopped at more than a few shoe stores. We almost never shop when we're in the city but we had nothing planned so I went with the flow, even looking for a few things myself. We bought nothing though - everything I liked was at least double what I was willing to pay. You might call me cheap but I'll call it frugal.
Anyhow, about 74th street it hit me that it was Monday and most of the museums are closed on Monday. We walked the next block to the Whitney entrance and discovered that, yup, it was closed. Oops. I suggested we walk over to the Metropolitan Museum at 80th and 5th, though I was certain that it was closed on Monday also. Yes, it is. Oh well. We walked back down the other side of Madison, recalling a few places we'd been before (most specifically a few delis where we've grabbed some good food for picnics in the park.) When we got back to midtown it was 4:00, check-in time, so we headed back to the MC, checked in, and relaxed for an hour before dinner.
We ate at Il Melograno, at the corner of 51st and 10th, and it was very good. We realized right away that it wasn't really a tourist restaurant but more of a place where the locals come to eat - the owner and the waitresses seems to know most of the people who were there. The food was terrific and the prices very reasonable. Appetizers, I had a salad, two meals, two bottles of sparkling water, two beers, a tiramisu and espresso for dessert, all for $91. And very informal. We were dressed for the show but we didn't need to be. Jeans would have been fine. We decided to remember this place for those times when we wanted to stay casual all day. Highly recommended.
And then we went to see The 39 Steps at The New World Stages theatre on 50th, between 8th and 9th, a spoof of the great old Hitchcock movie. And it was delightful, very ingenious, terrificly acted. Lots of fun, lots of laughs. Again, highly recommended.
And then back to the Manhattan Club and too sleep, perchance to dream. I was tempted just to check the bags in the morning and spend the day in the city but we decided to just head home. I get that urge always in New York - I never want to leave. I've never had enough.
Now we're back home, back to the bland routine. I'm on vacation this week so that's why I'm sitting here blogging on a Wednesday morning. I'm going to try to enjoy the next few days off as work has been very stressful the past few months and I really want a break from it. I plan to listen to some podcasts, read some blogs, do a little blogging myself, listen to some music, do some reading. A lot of what I read will come from this link, The Best Magazine Articles Ever. I love the long form book review, essay, magazine article, i.e. something you can sit with for an hour or more and sink into. I'll make my way through most of these, many of them this week. I've read the Gay Talese Sinatra piece last night, a brilliant piece of writing that captures the man better perhaps than anything I've ever read about him. For instance, consider this, about "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning":
As readers of this blog know, I'm particularly interested in Sinatra's period of transition, the few years when he began to redefine himself and became Sinatra the adult icon, the man other men patterned themselves after, the years 1952-54. He'd been down and out, had lost his crooner's voice, was starting to be considered a has-been. And he redefined himself. I'd never considered how much Ava Gardner had to do with this. The career descent coincided with his obsession with her; his ascent coincided with his leaving her behind. He'd gotten hold of himself and determined that from that point on he'd do things his way, damned the consequences. A few years later, he owned the world.
Anyhow, if the rest of these articles are as good as the Sinatra article, I'm in for a treat.
I also read the article Pearls Before Breakfast, by Gene Weigarten, which appeared in the Washington Post Magazine a few years back. I remember the episode: The Post had entreated world famlous violinist Joshua Bell to play his instrument in the subway, posing as a street musician, and see how many people recognized him or appreciated the music. The results were depressing, with only a few people stopping to appreciate the music and only one who actually recognized Bell. I didn't read the article at the time but it's a great read and has inspired me to go listen to Bach's "Chaconne" a few times, and almost certainly again as soon as I'm done typing.
Finally, for you political wonks who love a good discussion, CSpan had Jonah Goldberg on for three hours the other day and a more enjoyable three hours you will not find. Go here to see it again. Jonah is one of the funniest people around, and also one of the smartest.
And now, back to my vacation....
Clearly I'm in a don'tfeellikeblogging mood. Or have been. This morning I feel like it. No guarantees about tomorrow.
So, there was an election recently, right? Just kidding - the mid-terms took up most of my interest over the past few months. I'm afraid I, like a lot of conservatives, got caught up in the mega-wave fever and got my hopes too high. Election day itself was terrible. Work was a disaster, a stress-filled day of putting out fires. I voted immediately after work only to arrive home and find out that my brother had been rushed into emergency surgery (he's fine now.) And then the election results started coming in and....nothing. I had set up my computer with open pages to all my favorite blogs and political information sites, hoping to keep abreast of any breaking news. And, as I said, nothing. Around 7 pm I realized what was happening, or what was not happening: the mega-wave. Oh, it was a wave for sure, but that was already a given. By election day 60 house seats and 7-8 Senate seats were what everyone was predicting. But 80-90 seats and 10 Senate seats were clearly not going to come that night. Depression started to sink in and it continued on into the following morning.
It wasn't until Thursday morning that I began to feel better. Years from now when they write about this election they won't be talking about how many of us were disappointed with the results. They'll talk about the historic gains in the House, substantial gains in the Senate, but perhaps more importantly, the gains Republicans made in governorships and state houses. That's where the real landslide occurred, and a good deal of them in very important states, i.e. Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, West Virginia, Indiana, Wisconsin. The old rust belt states that are so important to control during presidential election years. Barack Obama's chances of getting re-elected went down last Tuesday, no doubt. Also, having control during the reapportionment will also help Republicans.
So, all in all, I feel much better about the election than I did the morning after. The important work is just starting though and we will see if the Republicans are up to it. But if I think about that too much depression will start to sink in again. So let's talk about other things.
NOTE: the depression thing is just a figure of speech. The proper term for what I was feeling election night and the day after is letdown. I don't think I've actually ever been depressed. My normal disposition is happy, content, and I can't keep it down for long. I can get mad, I can be sad, I can feel bad about something, but never for long. Not sure why I needed to point that out except I don't want to give anyone the impression that I'm the morose type. Far from it and God forbid.
What else? Well, we just got back from New York City again, our last night at the time share. We have a time share at The Manhattan Club at 56th and 7th Ave, kitty korner from Carnegie Hall, a few blocks from Central Park and Columbus Circle, close to Times Square, 5th Avenue, and the Upper West Side. We had no daytime plans when we woke up on Monday but just before we left home I found out that there is an Edward Hopper exhibit at the Whitney Museum at Madison and 75th. We'd never been to the Whitney and we like Hopper (we saw and enjoyed the Hopper exhibit here at the National Gallery a few years back). So we decided to go there. It had rained all morning in New York and while it had stopped by the time we arrived, it was still cloudy and windy. That's no problem. I love New York best in lovely spring weather but I love it at all times - it's personality changes with the weather. I always feel like I'm in a movie when I'm in New York. Cool, cloudy, and windy is just a different movie. So we bundled up and head up Madison, heads into the wind, taking our time, stopping at some of the chi-chi stores along the way. My wife and I agreed that they make all the clothes in these stores for tall, slim, young people. We'd look a bit ridiculous in most of the styles on display, though my baby could still pull some of them off, minus the ridiculously high heels. She pointed out to me that all the women were wearing the tall boots that went up to the knee, usually over some sort of leggings. She likes the style so we stopped at more than a few shoe stores. We almost never shop when we're in the city but we had nothing planned so I went with the flow, even looking for a few things myself. We bought nothing though - everything I liked was at least double what I was willing to pay. You might call me cheap but I'll call it frugal.
Anyhow, about 74th street it hit me that it was Monday and most of the museums are closed on Monday. We walked the next block to the Whitney entrance and discovered that, yup, it was closed. Oops. I suggested we walk over to the Metropolitan Museum at 80th and 5th, though I was certain that it was closed on Monday also. Yes, it is. Oh well. We walked back down the other side of Madison, recalling a few places we'd been before (most specifically a few delis where we've grabbed some good food for picnics in the park.) When we got back to midtown it was 4:00, check-in time, so we headed back to the MC, checked in, and relaxed for an hour before dinner.
We ate at Il Melograno, at the corner of 51st and 10th, and it was very good. We realized right away that it wasn't really a tourist restaurant but more of a place where the locals come to eat - the owner and the waitresses seems to know most of the people who were there. The food was terrific and the prices very reasonable. Appetizers, I had a salad, two meals, two bottles of sparkling water, two beers, a tiramisu and espresso for dessert, all for $91. And very informal. We were dressed for the show but we didn't need to be. Jeans would have been fine. We decided to remember this place for those times when we wanted to stay casual all day. Highly recommended.
And then we went to see The 39 Steps at The New World Stages theatre on 50th, between 8th and 9th, a spoof of the great old Hitchcock movie. And it was delightful, very ingenious, terrificly acted. Lots of fun, lots of laughs. Again, highly recommended.
And then back to the Manhattan Club and too sleep, perchance to dream. I was tempted just to check the bags in the morning and spend the day in the city but we decided to just head home. I get that urge always in New York - I never want to leave. I've never had enough.
Now we're back home, back to the bland routine. I'm on vacation this week so that's why I'm sitting here blogging on a Wednesday morning. I'm going to try to enjoy the next few days off as work has been very stressful the past few months and I really want a break from it. I plan to listen to some podcasts, read some blogs, do a little blogging myself, listen to some music, do some reading. A lot of what I read will come from this link, The Best Magazine Articles Ever. I love the long form book review, essay, magazine article, i.e. something you can sit with for an hour or more and sink into. I'll make my way through most of these, many of them this week. I've read the Gay Talese Sinatra piece last night, a brilliant piece of writing that captures the man better perhaps than anything I've ever read about him. For instance, consider this, about "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning":
It is a lovely ballad that he first recorded ten years ago, and it now inspired many young couples who had been sitting, tired of twisting, to get up and move slowly around the dance floor, holding one another very close. Sinatra's intonation, precisely clipped, yet full and flowing, gave a deeper meaning to the simple lyrics -- "In the wee small hours of the morning/while the whole wide world is fast asleep/you lie awake, and think about the girl...." -- it was like so many of his classics, a song that evoked loneliness and sensuality, and when blended with the dim light and the alcohol and nicotine and late-night needs, it became a kind of airy aphrodisiac. Undoubtedly the words from this song, and others like it, had put millions in the mood, it was music to make love by, and doubtless much love had been made by it all over America at night in cars, while the batteries burned down, in cottages by the lake, on beaches during balmy summer evenings, in secluded parks and exclusive penthouses and furnished rooms, in cabin cruisers and cabs and cabanas -- in all places where Sinatra's songs could be heard were these words that warmed women, wooed and won them, snipped the final thread of inhibition and gratified the male egos of ungrateful lovers; two generations of men had been the beneficiaries of such ballads, for which they were eternally in his debt, for which they may eternally hate him...
As readers of this blog know, I'm particularly interested in Sinatra's period of transition, the few years when he began to redefine himself and became Sinatra the adult icon, the man other men patterned themselves after, the years 1952-54. He'd been down and out, had lost his crooner's voice, was starting to be considered a has-been. And he redefined himself. I'd never considered how much Ava Gardner had to do with this. The career descent coincided with his obsession with her; his ascent coincided with his leaving her behind. He'd gotten hold of himself and determined that from that point on he'd do things his way, damned the consequences. A few years later, he owned the world.
Anyhow, if the rest of these articles are as good as the Sinatra article, I'm in for a treat.
I also read the article Pearls Before Breakfast, by Gene Weigarten, which appeared in the Washington Post Magazine a few years back. I remember the episode: The Post had entreated world famlous violinist Joshua Bell to play his instrument in the subway, posing as a street musician, and see how many people recognized him or appreciated the music. The results were depressing, with only a few people stopping to appreciate the music and only one who actually recognized Bell. I didn't read the article at the time but it's a great read and has inspired me to go listen to Bach's "Chaconne" a few times, and almost certainly again as soon as I'm done typing.
Finally, for you political wonks who love a good discussion, CSpan had Jonah Goldberg on for three hours the other day and a more enjoyable three hours you will not find. Go here to see it again. Jonah is one of the funniest people around, and also one of the smartest.
And now, back to my vacation....
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Interlude
Nancy Lamott singing two Johnny Mercer songs appropriate for the day, "Autumn Leaves" and "When October Goes":
[audio:AutumnLeavesWhenOctoberGoes.mp3]
[audio:AutumnLeavesWhenOctoberGoes.mp3]
About Cat Stevens
Like Bookworm, I loved Cat Stevens when I was young. Real young, like early to mid-teens. I had all his records, listened to him constantly. The first live rock and roll concert I ever attended was Deep Purple. The second was Cat Stevens. I was fifteen.
But I'd just about stopped listening to him by the time I was seventeen. To begin with, his musical descent had begun. After "Teaser and the Firecat" there wasn't much left for him to say, musically. "Catch Bull at Four" was a disappointment, even for my smitten ears. "Foreigner" was worse, "Buddha and the Chocolate Box" a disaster. I stopped buying his records then, and my musical taste began to evolve, to say the least. Listen to him now, the early, good stuff, and the songs sounds like cute jingles, with tender, obscure lyrics only a sensitive teenager could appreciate. He had talent, for sure, but somewhere along the line - around 1972 - he stopped growing as an artist. Years later, with his albums stored somewhere down on the bottom right-hand shelf of my record collection, dormant for years, I heard of his conversion to Islam. I thought it was weird - Islam was even more foreign to me then than it is now - but it didn't matter much to me. Cat Stevens was just a passing phase in my musical growth. He's stopped mattering to me long before that.
The point is, I outgrew Cat Stevens' music. It was, is, music for children, no matter how catchy the tune. I haven't thought about listening to Cat Stevens' in thirty years. So I don't have Bookworms dilemma about listening to his old music. The question for me is, would I listen to him now if he were still making good music? If he'd grown up too, and were making adult music? No, I wouldn't. To begin with, as I said, Islam is foreign to me. It's no more possible for me to listen to Islamic-based music and understand it than to watch a Japanese film without subtitles and understand it. Cat Stevens entire world view is seen through the prism of Islam. If he were making music today it almost certainly would reflect Islamic thought and musical traditions. Me, I'm a child of the west, of western music, western art, western political thought, western religion, and I make no apologies for it. I listen to western music exclusively because it's what I get, what I understand. Give me a Palestrina mass from four centuries ago, a Bach cantata from three centuries ago, and I'll understand it and possibly love it. Give me any recent popular Islamic music (is there such a thing?) and all I'll hear is noise.
The second reason, however, does coincide with Bookworms thoughts. Cat Stevens, in his current persona, is a jihadist (follow Bookworms links for more) whose views should not be given legitimacy. He should be a social outcast in a open society that believes in free speech and freedom of religion. I've said many times on this blog that if I only listened to music produced by people whose political and moral stances I agreed with, then I'd listen to almost no music at all. The same goes for movies, books, etc. You have to learn to separate the art from the artist. But you also have to draw the line somewhere. I draw a line at Cat Stevens and his abhorant views.
By the way, please don't give me any grief about my statement above that Stevens should be shunned in an open society. It's not hypocrisy in any way. I don't advocate any laws against Cat Stevens' free expression, or anyone else's. Social shunning is the perfect way to express our own beliefs that his way is wrong and our way is right. And I'm in no way saying that we all have to believe the same things or live the same way. To each his own. But some opinions are beyond the pale, and should not be legitimized. Giving Cat Stevens an audience at the Lincoln Memorial yesterday only lends the man and his jihadist views social sanction. His hosts, and most in the crowd, didn't seem to realize that.
But I'd just about stopped listening to him by the time I was seventeen. To begin with, his musical descent had begun. After "Teaser and the Firecat" there wasn't much left for him to say, musically. "Catch Bull at Four" was a disappointment, even for my smitten ears. "Foreigner" was worse, "Buddha and the Chocolate Box" a disaster. I stopped buying his records then, and my musical taste began to evolve, to say the least. Listen to him now, the early, good stuff, and the songs sounds like cute jingles, with tender, obscure lyrics only a sensitive teenager could appreciate. He had talent, for sure, but somewhere along the line - around 1972 - he stopped growing as an artist. Years later, with his albums stored somewhere down on the bottom right-hand shelf of my record collection, dormant for years, I heard of his conversion to Islam. I thought it was weird - Islam was even more foreign to me then than it is now - but it didn't matter much to me. Cat Stevens was just a passing phase in my musical growth. He's stopped mattering to me long before that.
The point is, I outgrew Cat Stevens' music. It was, is, music for children, no matter how catchy the tune. I haven't thought about listening to Cat Stevens' in thirty years. So I don't have Bookworms dilemma about listening to his old music. The question for me is, would I listen to him now if he were still making good music? If he'd grown up too, and were making adult music? No, I wouldn't. To begin with, as I said, Islam is foreign to me. It's no more possible for me to listen to Islamic-based music and understand it than to watch a Japanese film without subtitles and understand it. Cat Stevens entire world view is seen through the prism of Islam. If he were making music today it almost certainly would reflect Islamic thought and musical traditions. Me, I'm a child of the west, of western music, western art, western political thought, western religion, and I make no apologies for it. I listen to western music exclusively because it's what I get, what I understand. Give me a Palestrina mass from four centuries ago, a Bach cantata from three centuries ago, and I'll understand it and possibly love it. Give me any recent popular Islamic music (is there such a thing?) and all I'll hear is noise.
The second reason, however, does coincide with Bookworms thoughts. Cat Stevens, in his current persona, is a jihadist (follow Bookworms links for more) whose views should not be given legitimacy. He should be a social outcast in a open society that believes in free speech and freedom of religion. I've said many times on this blog that if I only listened to music produced by people whose political and moral stances I agreed with, then I'd listen to almost no music at all. The same goes for movies, books, etc. You have to learn to separate the art from the artist. But you also have to draw the line somewhere. I draw a line at Cat Stevens and his abhorant views.
By the way, please don't give me any grief about my statement above that Stevens should be shunned in an open society. It's not hypocrisy in any way. I don't advocate any laws against Cat Stevens' free expression, or anyone else's. Social shunning is the perfect way to express our own beliefs that his way is wrong and our way is right. And I'm in no way saying that we all have to believe the same things or live the same way. To each his own. But some opinions are beyond the pale, and should not be legitimized. Giving Cat Stevens an audience at the Lincoln Memorial yesterday only lends the man and his jihadist views social sanction. His hosts, and most in the crowd, didn't seem to realize that.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Prediction Time
Okay, so I've been scarce around here lately. That happens, as anyone who follows this blog should know by now. I go underground for awhile. Back, for the moment at least.
Not that I've not been paying attention. One of the reasons I haven't blogged is because I'm reading other blogs, finding out all I can about the upcoming election. My one recent post had to do with my feeling that the polls, as good as they look for Republicans, may not really being showing the extent of the wave that is sweeping the country. As Jay Cost said the other day, it's either a tsunami or the tsunami to end all tsunamis. More and more I think it could be the latter.
So it's prediction time, time to put up or shut up. How many House seats will the GOP win? How many Senate seats? And how many governorships will they end up holding? Based on pure gut instinct, I say:
House: 73 seats
Senate: 10 seats
Governors: 32 seats
Lots of people are upping their House predictions over the past few days. For awhile the pros were all hedging their bets, most of them granting that the GOP would win the 39 necessary seats to take control of the House plus a few more. Now, most are predicting mid-50+, others are saying at least 60. I'm sticking with my feeling that the wave has been underestimated by the pollsters. So put me down for 73, with the hope that it could be more.
As for the Senate, it's gone a bit the opposite way. A few weeks ago, according to most pollsters, it appeared quite likely the GOP could pick up the 10 seats necessary to take control of the Senate. But over the past few weeks both West Virginia and Alaska have switched. Joe Manchin, the very popular Democratic governor, now has taken the lead over John Raese, who'd previously been ahead and who seemed to be pulling away. No more. And in Alaska, the detestable Lizza Macrooski (like Ace, I refuse to spell her name correctly since she's running as a write-in and we don't want to help) seems to be ahead of Joe Miller, who'd defeated Makhoosky in the Republican primary. So both those races are up in the air now. Still, I'm sticking with my prediction of 10. It's quite difficult to win a close race as a write-in, especially when your name is as hard to spell as McCronskey's, and I think Sarah Palin's push for Miller this weekend will help swing things back in his direction. West Virginia may be lost but I still think the GOP wins in Arkansas, Indiana, Florida (go away, Charlie Crist), Wisconsin, Colorado, Kentucky, Illinois, Nevada (bye-bye Harry), and Pennsylvania. The GOP wins West Virginia, or possibly Washington, or (less likely) California, and there is your 10. Even if Alaska goes, Mcluskey will end up caucusing with Republicans, so a loss there would not be so bad strategically. Anyhow, I'm sticking with my wave analysis and my prediction of 10.
As for governors, who knows? I haven't been following those as closely but I'm going for the far-end of what I've seen predicted. 32 is my bet.
In 1988 I nailed all 50 states in the office pool for the presidential race. I'm hoping this time if I'm off, it's on the low side. We need a wave to get it through the thick skulls of the GOP leadership that things have changed. For it is what happens after the election that really matters.
Not that I've not been paying attention. One of the reasons I haven't blogged is because I'm reading other blogs, finding out all I can about the upcoming election. My one recent post had to do with my feeling that the polls, as good as they look for Republicans, may not really being showing the extent of the wave that is sweeping the country. As Jay Cost said the other day, it's either a tsunami or the tsunami to end all tsunamis. More and more I think it could be the latter.
So it's prediction time, time to put up or shut up. How many House seats will the GOP win? How many Senate seats? And how many governorships will they end up holding? Based on pure gut instinct, I say:
House: 73 seats
Senate: 10 seats
Governors: 32 seats
Lots of people are upping their House predictions over the past few days. For awhile the pros were all hedging their bets, most of them granting that the GOP would win the 39 necessary seats to take control of the House plus a few more. Now, most are predicting mid-50+, others are saying at least 60. I'm sticking with my feeling that the wave has been underestimated by the pollsters. So put me down for 73, with the hope that it could be more.
As for the Senate, it's gone a bit the opposite way. A few weeks ago, according to most pollsters, it appeared quite likely the GOP could pick up the 10 seats necessary to take control of the Senate. But over the past few weeks both West Virginia and Alaska have switched. Joe Manchin, the very popular Democratic governor, now has taken the lead over John Raese, who'd previously been ahead and who seemed to be pulling away. No more. And in Alaska, the detestable Lizza Macrooski (like Ace, I refuse to spell her name correctly since she's running as a write-in and we don't want to help) seems to be ahead of Joe Miller, who'd defeated Makhoosky in the Republican primary. So both those races are up in the air now. Still, I'm sticking with my prediction of 10. It's quite difficult to win a close race as a write-in, especially when your name is as hard to spell as McCronskey's, and I think Sarah Palin's push for Miller this weekend will help swing things back in his direction. West Virginia may be lost but I still think the GOP wins in Arkansas, Indiana, Florida (go away, Charlie Crist), Wisconsin, Colorado, Kentucky, Illinois, Nevada (bye-bye Harry), and Pennsylvania. The GOP wins West Virginia, or possibly Washington, or (less likely) California, and there is your 10. Even if Alaska goes, Mcluskey will end up caucusing with Republicans, so a loss there would not be so bad strategically. Anyhow, I'm sticking with my wave analysis and my prediction of 10.
As for governors, who knows? I haven't been following those as closely but I'm going for the far-end of what I've seen predicted. 32 is my bet.
In 1988 I nailed all 50 states in the office pool for the presidential race. I'm hoping this time if I'm off, it's on the low side. We need a wave to get it through the thick skulls of the GOP leadership that things have changed. For it is what happens after the election that really matters.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Are the polls wrong?
I few weeks ago I told my buddy Mike that I thought the polls, as good as they look for Republicans right now, can't really be trusted. Why? Because I think the models are wrong. There has been a sea-change of opinion in America over the past two years; Obama, and liberalism, stand exposed. People are scared about country's future as well as their own. There is a new understanding that if we don't curb spending, and fast, America's future prospects will be vastly diminished. What is more, many Americans are understanding conservatism and the benefits of smaller government for the first time. A new-found respect for the founders and their ideas have swept over the country. Things have changed.
But the polling models haven't. Sure, some of the pollsters are trying to take into consideration what's gone on these past two years but none really know the extent of it. All the respected pollsters are trying to figure out how many people have switched, which years in the past are most like this year, etc. and base their models on that. But my point is that there probably are no models that truly reflect the wave of opinion that has swept over the country. The pollsters are trying to evaluate who are the likely voters and how many of them are are Republican, Democrat, or Independent but they don't really know the answers to those questions, not this year. If they are using old models than they are probably wrong. My opinion is that they are underestimating likely voters on the conservative side and overestimating them on the liberal side. As such, I think that the coming Republican landslide will be even more significant than many predict.
Mike, a few days later, admitted (I know it was hard for him) that he thought I was right. But we are just two interested outsiders. Yesterday, I got confirmation from a political insider that my opinion is valid. Pat Caddell, former pollster for McGovern and Carter, an old-time liberal who has been alienated from modern liberalism and thinks the Democratic party under Obama is corrupt, echoed my thoughts yesterday on the Ricochet podcast - see Episode 39, "The Shrinking Violets." "Shrinking Violets" is used here ironically - there is nothing shy or retiring about Pat Caddell. He let's loose on both parties during the podcast and it makes for terrific fun. Listen to the whole thing if you're a political junkie like myself. You won't be disappointed. While you're at it subscribe to the podcast and perhaps subscribe to the Ricochet website. It costs $3.47 per month, which they say is the costs of a cup of Starbucks coffee.
I don't think any of us who believe the polling models to be wrong are being pollyannish. I'm not the type, Mike isn't the type, and Pat Caddell definitely isn't the type. We just don't think there is any real gauge yet for the extent of the ideological shift of the past two years. We'll see on election day. Caddell says we'll know by 6:30 or 7:30 pm the extent of the wave. It might be bigger than you think. For Democrats I'd offer the following advice:
[youtube]XypVcv77WBU[/youtube]
But the polling models haven't. Sure, some of the pollsters are trying to take into consideration what's gone on these past two years but none really know the extent of it. All the respected pollsters are trying to figure out how many people have switched, which years in the past are most like this year, etc. and base their models on that. But my point is that there probably are no models that truly reflect the wave of opinion that has swept over the country. The pollsters are trying to evaluate who are the likely voters and how many of them are are Republican, Democrat, or Independent but they don't really know the answers to those questions, not this year. If they are using old models than they are probably wrong. My opinion is that they are underestimating likely voters on the conservative side and overestimating them on the liberal side. As such, I think that the coming Republican landslide will be even more significant than many predict.
Mike, a few days later, admitted (I know it was hard for him) that he thought I was right. But we are just two interested outsiders. Yesterday, I got confirmation from a political insider that my opinion is valid. Pat Caddell, former pollster for McGovern and Carter, an old-time liberal who has been alienated from modern liberalism and thinks the Democratic party under Obama is corrupt, echoed my thoughts yesterday on the Ricochet podcast - see Episode 39, "The Shrinking Violets." "Shrinking Violets" is used here ironically - there is nothing shy or retiring about Pat Caddell. He let's loose on both parties during the podcast and it makes for terrific fun. Listen to the whole thing if you're a political junkie like myself. You won't be disappointed. While you're at it subscribe to the podcast and perhaps subscribe to the Ricochet website. It costs $3.47 per month, which they say is the costs of a cup of Starbucks coffee.
I don't think any of us who believe the polling models to be wrong are being pollyannish. I'm not the type, Mike isn't the type, and Pat Caddell definitely isn't the type. We just don't think there is any real gauge yet for the extent of the ideological shift of the past two years. We'll see on election day. Caddell says we'll know by 6:30 or 7:30 pm the extent of the wave. It might be bigger than you think. For Democrats I'd offer the following advice:
[youtube]XypVcv77WBU[/youtube]
O’Reilly on Muslims
There's been some kerfuffle over Bill O'Reilly's comment on The View the other day. When asked why he was against the Ground Zero mosque, he responded, "Because Muslims killed us on 9/11!”
Let me preface my remarks by stating that I've never been an O'Reilly fan. I rarely watch his show and when I do it's never planned, it's only because I'm flipping channels and see that he has an interesting guest on. I don't consider O'Reilly a conservative. He's more of a populist and a self-promoter. There's nothing wrong with that and it's not the main reason I don't watch him. The real reason is because I find the man's belligerence off-putting in the extreme. His attitude that he is the arbiter of all that is right or wrong may make for popular television but it makes me boil. I find him nearly unwatchable for more than ten minutes at a time.
And I've never watched The View. I've seen plenty of clips of the show posted on conservative blogs and that is quite enough for me, thank you. Beyond that I won't comment on my opinion of the show (cop out!).
At any rate, I watched the clip of O'Reilly making his comment and a couple of the panelists walking off the set (including Whoopi Goldberg, who wins the award for the most unfunny comedian in history.) It seemed to me ridiculous.
What Bill O'Reilly said, "Because Muslims killed us on 9/11!” is true, factually. That the 19 men who flew the airplanes into our buildings and killed nearly 3000 people on American soil were Muslim is without doubt. Furthermore, they did it in the name of Islam. No one denies that. Could he have said what he meant more artfully? Sure, I suppose. But no one can argue with the factual basis of the statement. So why all the fuss? I dismissed the panelists walking off the set as a couple of loony leftists making a grandstanding gesture and the ensuing kerfuffle as nonsense.
Now, along comes Peter Wehner, a man for whom I have great respect and whom I've praised often on this blog, posting on Commentary's Contentions blog that O'Reilly was wrong. He explains why he thinks so by stating the following:
I disagree with Wehner because I think his analogy is wrong. To say, "Catholics are child molesters" is indeed a statement that indicts all Catholics. But O'Reilly did not indict all Muslims with his statement. He was plainly speaking of the 19 men who commandeered those airliners, not all Muslims. A more proper analogy to the O'Reilly statement would be, "Catholics molested those children." That is an inarguable fact, just as O'Reilly's statement is. So Wehner's analogy is incorrect.
I would add a few more things. The Catholic priests who molested those children did not do it in the name of Catholicism, as the 9/11 killers did in the name of Islam. The priests did it because they were weak, dishonorable men who could not control their vile impulses. You could argue that they got into the priesthood for the purposes of putting themselves into closer proximity to children and to better gain their trust, but that is a different thing than committing their outrages in the name of the Church.
Furthermore, the vast, vast, majority of other Catholics were as horrified as anyone else (perhaps more so) when the facts of the child molestations came to light, and they condemned it as much as anyone (again, perhaps more so.) I do not believe that the same percentage of Muslims throughout the world had similar reactions when learning of the 9/11 atrocities. I seem to remember dancing in the streets. Afterwards there were many Islamic extremists claiming support for the murderers. Even those prominent Muslims who condemned the actions of the 9/11 terrorists often did so in equivocated language, often hinting that our actions may have provoked and justified the attacks. While I am sure there are millions of Muslims who reacted with the same horror and disgust as the rest of us on 9/11, their voices are seldom heard. To me, and others, there seems to be many Muslims who, while they would never engage in terrorism themselves, give tacit approval to those who do. And that is a problem (about which I plan to post more about soon.)
So please spare me the outrage over O'Reilly's comment. What he said was true and those that are feigning outrage over it are frauds. They know what he meant.
Let me preface my remarks by stating that I've never been an O'Reilly fan. I rarely watch his show and when I do it's never planned, it's only because I'm flipping channels and see that he has an interesting guest on. I don't consider O'Reilly a conservative. He's more of a populist and a self-promoter. There's nothing wrong with that and it's not the main reason I don't watch him. The real reason is because I find the man's belligerence off-putting in the extreme. His attitude that he is the arbiter of all that is right or wrong may make for popular television but it makes me boil. I find him nearly unwatchable for more than ten minutes at a time.
And I've never watched The View. I've seen plenty of clips of the show posted on conservative blogs and that is quite enough for me, thank you. Beyond that I won't comment on my opinion of the show (cop out!).
At any rate, I watched the clip of O'Reilly making his comment and a couple of the panelists walking off the set (including Whoopi Goldberg, who wins the award for the most unfunny comedian in history.) It seemed to me ridiculous.
What Bill O'Reilly said, "Because Muslims killed us on 9/11!” is true, factually. That the 19 men who flew the airplanes into our buildings and killed nearly 3000 people on American soil were Muslim is without doubt. Furthermore, they did it in the name of Islam. No one denies that. Could he have said what he meant more artfully? Sure, I suppose. But no one can argue with the factual basis of the statement. So why all the fuss? I dismissed the panelists walking off the set as a couple of loony leftists making a grandstanding gesture and the ensuing kerfuffle as nonsense.
Now, along comes Peter Wehner, a man for whom I have great respect and whom I've praised often on this blog, posting on Commentary's Contentions blog that O'Reilly was wrong. He explains why he thinks so by stating the following:
Assume that Sam Harris went on The O’Reilly Factor and, based on the child-abuse scandals that tarnished the reputation of the Catholic Church, made the sweeping claim that “Catholics are child molesters.” My guess is that O’Reilly would (rightly) respond, “No. Some priests molested children, and it was a horrific thing. But you can’t indict an entire faith based on the sins of a relatively few number of priests."
I disagree with Wehner because I think his analogy is wrong. To say, "Catholics are child molesters" is indeed a statement that indicts all Catholics. But O'Reilly did not indict all Muslims with his statement. He was plainly speaking of the 19 men who commandeered those airliners, not all Muslims. A more proper analogy to the O'Reilly statement would be, "Catholics molested those children." That is an inarguable fact, just as O'Reilly's statement is. So Wehner's analogy is incorrect.
I would add a few more things. The Catholic priests who molested those children did not do it in the name of Catholicism, as the 9/11 killers did in the name of Islam. The priests did it because they were weak, dishonorable men who could not control their vile impulses. You could argue that they got into the priesthood for the purposes of putting themselves into closer proximity to children and to better gain their trust, but that is a different thing than committing their outrages in the name of the Church.
Furthermore, the vast, vast, majority of other Catholics were as horrified as anyone else (perhaps more so) when the facts of the child molestations came to light, and they condemned it as much as anyone (again, perhaps more so.) I do not believe that the same percentage of Muslims throughout the world had similar reactions when learning of the 9/11 atrocities. I seem to remember dancing in the streets. Afterwards there were many Islamic extremists claiming support for the murderers. Even those prominent Muslims who condemned the actions of the 9/11 terrorists often did so in equivocated language, often hinting that our actions may have provoked and justified the attacks. While I am sure there are millions of Muslims who reacted with the same horror and disgust as the rest of us on 9/11, their voices are seldom heard. To me, and others, there seems to be many Muslims who, while they would never engage in terrorism themselves, give tacit approval to those who do. And that is a problem (about which I plan to post more about soon.)
So please spare me the outrage over O'Reilly's comment. What he said was true and those that are feigning outrage over it are frauds. They know what he meant.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Beethoven?
I'm $10 lighter than I was a few minutes ago. A couple of kids from the local high school came to the door asking for money for their music club. The video I posted below was playing inside so I opened the door a little wider and told them if they could identify the piece that was playing I'd give them $10. They hemmed and hawed so I made it easier for them - just name the composer, I said. It was a guess but one kid said "Beethoven?" Being a man of my word, I handed him the $10, happy to do so, with a suggestion they listen to more of the great man.
Shakespeare and Beethoven
Enough politics. We'll pick it up on Monday. Today is a day for Beethoven and Shakespeare, perhaps the two greatest icons of Western art we have. I began this morning by listening to Beethoven's Third Piano Concerto, which I'm just learning. Composed in 1800 during what we now refer to as his early period, it's very Mozartian, and very wonderful - I've listened to in five times in the past four days. Later today, my baby and I are going to the Shakespeare Theatre to see All's Well That Ends Well. They've been on a good run lately so I hope it's as enjoyable as The Taming Of The Shrew, Henry V, Richard II, and Twelfth Night. I'll let you know.
Finally, I'm a fan of Instant Encore, a site that gathers news, audios, and videos of all things classical. The daily email I received from them this morning had links to a breathtaking series of videos of Glenn Gould and the Toronto Symphony Orchestra playing Beethoven's Fifth Piano Concerto (the "Emperor"), one of the pinnacles of classical music achievement. Below is the first part of the first movement (YouTube has a ten minute limitation on videos and the movement clocks in at about twenty minutes) and if you want to continue with the entire concerto you'll see links down the side to pick it up. Highly recommended.
[youtube]yftk_cnbwKQ[/youtube]
Finally, I'm a fan of Instant Encore, a site that gathers news, audios, and videos of all things classical. The daily email I received from them this morning had links to a breathtaking series of videos of Glenn Gould and the Toronto Symphony Orchestra playing Beethoven's Fifth Piano Concerto (the "Emperor"), one of the pinnacles of classical music achievement. Below is the first part of the first movement (YouTube has a ten minute limitation on videos and the movement clocks in at about twenty minutes) and if you want to continue with the entire concerto you'll see links down the side to pick it up. Highly recommended.
[youtube]yftk_cnbwKQ[/youtube]
Rise and Shine
Need something to get your juices flowing this morning? This video from Red State ought to do it:
[youtube]6weDMH-SCOE[/youtube]
[youtube]6weDMH-SCOE[/youtube]
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Interlude
Helen Merrill singing Cole Porter's "After You, Who?" I love this song:
[audio:AfterYouWho.mp3]
[audio:AfterYouWho.mp3]
You’re Getting To Be A Habit With Me
I've praised the Bookworm Blog a number of times recently but that won't stop me from doing so again. The woman who runs the blog writes anonymously but I know from a few weeks of reading her daily (hence the title of this post) that she is married with children, lives in California, and is a few years younger than myself. Her writings on politics are wonderful and wise but today she reveals herself to also be a woman of great taste: she loves all the old songs. Berlin, Porter, Gershwin, Rodgers, Arlen, and dozens of others who wrote the songs we now refer to as the Great American Songbook. Any reader of this blog knows my own love of this music. Just this morning I listened to a playlist of great old songs during my workout and have had those tunes running through my head all day. Then I got home and found this wonderful post by Ms. Bookworm which also points to what looks like an interesting book which compiles the lyrics of over 1000 songs. I must admit I'm not much of a fan of lyric compilations, for most lyrics die on the page. But Terry Teachout has made the case in the past that Johnny Mercer's lyrics approach what can be called poetry, and I would add Cole Porter, Dorothy Fields, Larry Hart, and Oscar Hammerstein to that list of lyricists whose words often approach art. So I may pick it up. It's just nice to know that there are people out there who still appreciate the old songs. (In truth, I think the popularity of the old music is growing due to the pitiful state of contemporary music and the availability of the old stuff on the web.) At any rate, another tip of the hat to the Bookworm Blog, which is absolutely getting to be a habit with me. It's one of my daily stops. Make it one of yours too.
Excerpt
"The movement now ascendant in the country is not about anything so small as the question of which party has control over the Senate in 2011. It is about the future of freedom and prosperity, about the kind of nation we will be. Its goal is to return the United States to a pre–New Deal understanding of the Constitution’s limits on federal power, and to a pre–Baby Boom Left’s appreciation of the greatness of America. That is not a project for one election cycle. It is the work of a generation."
Andy McCarthy, from his column titled Contra Buckley at NRO
Andy McCarthy, from his column titled Contra Buckley at NRO
Sunday, September 19, 2010
More On O’Donnell
Bookworm, whom I've referenced here before, is a talented and thoughtful woman. Of all the millions of words written about Christine O'Donnell over the past week, hers in this post seem to me the wisest. There are virtually none of us who would not be somewhat embarrassed or at least chagrined if all the questionable actions and associations of our youth were publicized nation-wide. Especially is the press was determined to put the worst spin on each mistake. Bookworms post is long but it and the other posts she references should be read in full. Believe me, it's worth it. Here is a taste of what she has to say:
Read the whole thing. I'd comment more myself, and I may get around to it in time, but I'm too tired to think right now so it's off to watch a little football before I go to sleep.
I was young and I was stupid, stupid, stupid. I cringe when I look back at the things I did and thought. What’s really sad is that the only thing that stopped me from making even worse mistakes was my cowardice. I didn’t really live life. I observed it from the sidelines, and simply managed to collect a whole bunch of bad ideas as I went along.
The good news is that I grew up....
....I get the feeling that Christine O’Donnell was a very lost soul when she was young. The latest evidence of this fact is that Bill Maher is boasting that he has tapes of her admitting to practicing witchcraft (although, frankly, this should endear her to the Left, which loves its Gaia-worshipping Wiccans).
When O’Donnell hit Christianity, she hit it hard, taking a lot of extreme positions (masturbation being the one that has the Left most atwitter) — which is normal for a convert. The zealots usually come from the recently converted, the ones who still have enthusiasm and who also feel that extremism is an act of repentance. She’s had financial problems, too, although that leaves her in good company, since it seems that this is a common trait in federal employees.
But O’Donnell has grown up. Or at least she says she has and, for now, I choose to believe her — because I grew up too. I wasn’t as silly a youngster as O’Donnell, but I grew up in the 70s and early 80s, which gave me a couple of advantages: I had a slightly more friendly pop culture (TV still hewed to traditional values) and my youthful idiocies didn’t get captured forever on video tape.
Read the whole thing. I'd comment more myself, and I may get around to it in time, but I'm too tired to think right now so it's off to watch a little football before I go to sleep.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
The Great Awakening
I posted two excerpts immediately below from George Will's speech last night at at the Hillsdale College Center For Constitutional Studies & Citizenship. As always when it comes to Mr. Will, whether in a speech or a column, it is highly entertaining. You can find it here and I recommend it without reservation. His speech begins around the 33:00 minute mark.
He said two things I took particular note of, because they coincide with my own thoughts. I mentioned in my post on Christine O'Donnell that 2010 is "the most interesting, and perhaps the most important, political year of my lifetime." Mr. Will says the same thing during the speech, that 2010 is the most interesting political moment in his forty years as a columnist.
The second thing has to do with the title of this post. Last week I sent this link to a friend via email with a one sentence question: "Are we in the middle of a Great Awakening?" Mr. Will tells a questioner during the Q&A part of his speech that the 2010 elections will become known as "The Great Awakening."
I've said before in this space that the writings of George Will, with a helping hand from Bill Buckley, were the thing most instrumental in making me a conservative. Clearly the man has taught me well.
He said two things I took particular note of, because they coincide with my own thoughts. I mentioned in my post on Christine O'Donnell that 2010 is "the most interesting, and perhaps the most important, political year of my lifetime." Mr. Will says the same thing during the speech, that 2010 is the most interesting political moment in his forty years as a columnist.
The second thing has to do with the title of this post. Last week I sent this link to a friend via email with a one sentence question: "Are we in the middle of a Great Awakening?" Mr. Will tells a questioner during the Q&A part of his speech that the 2010 elections will become known as "The Great Awakening."
I've said before in this space that the writings of George Will, with a helping hand from Bill Buckley, were the thing most instrumental in making me a conservative. Clearly the man has taught me well.
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