So at the jazz sessions last night at Conundrum, I wasn't able to talk to Glynis, the bass player I blogged about last week regarding the stroke he just had at 53. But I was keeping a close eye on him and he appeared to be able to control both thumbs. So he seems to have already made a full recovery from his stroke. He also snuck "Master Blaster (Jammin')" by Stevie Wonder into an unrelated jazz number, showing a) that he hasn't lost his Detroit roots and b) that I was correct in asserting that he was BORN to sing Stevie. Jam on.
The drummer's little sister came up to do "My Funny Valentine." Pure nepotism. She sounded like a blend of Flora Purim, Diana Ross and Christina Aguilera. You really should have been there!
Lee Bailey demolished on keys. My friend Marty, more frequently seen at Bill's Pickin' Parlor, said to me, "You didn't know you were coming to church tonight, did you?"
The reason I didn't get to talk to Glynis was because the band never really took a break. Anyway, the instruments didn't. A guy from the crowd took over the keys and another hit the mic, free-styling old school. Anyway, he mentioned the Last Poets. Lots of fun regardless.
Before I pooped out, another keyboard player did a faithful but still jazzy version of "That's the Way of the World. Glynis and the drummer sang a bit, but the guy on keys was killing it so thoroughly I think they just wanted to let him at it. A great night, and I STILL don't know why these guys aren't famous.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Writing when the squirrels let me
(Editor's note: This is Amelia the cat's blog)
Oh boy! The sun's up! I gotta go look out the window! There might be squirrels or birds or other kitties!
Hey, it's cold. Big Stinky Man Thing isn't up yet. Maybe if I yell at him, he'll let me under the covers.
Hey, it's dark in there! Gotta go look out the window again.
Time to lick my tail.
Hey, Big Stinky Man Thing's up! Maybe he'll give me new food!
Hey, maybe if I claw his suitcase up Big Stinky Man Thing will come and brush me and give me scritches!
OK, now I can eat.
Time to lick my paws.
Is that a squirrel?! Gotta get to the window and see! OMG OMG OMG! It is! I'm gonna get that squirrel! (Editor's note: Cats don't understand so well about windows.)
Big Stinky Man Thing is walking to the front of the house. MAYBE WE CAN PLAY WITH THE BOOTLACE! Darn it, he just grabbed his book.
Big Stinky Man Thing is in the little room with the flushy thing. He can't get away! I get scritches! Oh boy!
Time to lick my ruff.
Big Stinky Man Thing is putting his boots on! Bootlaces! I get to play with bootlaces! Big Stinky Man Thing loves it, too; that's why he keeps saying, "Straight back to the kitty store!"
Time to take a nap.
Oh boy, the bad kitty's outside! I gotta scare him off! That's right, run away!
I'm gonna find a kittyball and kick it to Big Stinky Man Thing. He always loves to play Kittyball!
Time to take a nap.
Oh boy! The sun's up! I gotta go look out the window! There might be squirrels or birds or other kitties!
Hey, it's cold. Big Stinky Man Thing isn't up yet. Maybe if I yell at him, he'll let me under the covers.
Hey, it's dark in there! Gotta go look out the window again.
Time to lick my tail.
Hey, Big Stinky Man Thing's up! Maybe he'll give me new food!
Hey, maybe if I claw his suitcase up Big Stinky Man Thing will come and brush me and give me scritches!
OK, now I can eat.
Time to lick my paws.
Is that a squirrel?! Gotta get to the window and see! OMG OMG OMG! It is! I'm gonna get that squirrel! (Editor's note: Cats don't understand so well about windows.)
Big Stinky Man Thing is walking to the front of the house. MAYBE WE CAN PLAY WITH THE BOOTLACE! Darn it, he just grabbed his book.
Big Stinky Man Thing is in the little room with the flushy thing. He can't get away! I get scritches! Oh boy!
Time to lick my ruff.
Big Stinky Man Thing is putting his boots on! Bootlaces! I get to play with bootlaces! Big Stinky Man Thing loves it, too; that's why he keeps saying, "Straight back to the kitty store!"
Time to take a nap.
Oh boy, the bad kitty's outside! I gotta scare him off! That's right, run away!
I'm gonna find a kittyball and kick it to Big Stinky Man Thing. He always loves to play Kittyball!
Time to take a nap.
Monday, November 19, 2012
All good gifts
When I was teeny, I went to Heathwood Hall Episcopal School. However, the elder siblings started at Duke and Yale and at the same time Heathwood started adding all these construction fund charges (having no doubt NOTHING to do with desegregation and white flight) so I started 3d grade in public school. This turns out to be a neat dividing line for the purposes of today's tune-related anecdote.
Years later, I heard the musical "Godspell" for the first time when my high school girlfriend's Lutheran church put it on. I don't remember if "All Good Gifts" made an impression on me, but the rest of the music did. Eventually I bought a copy of the original Broadway cast recording, though this was probably a decade of more later. And that's when I noticed "All Good Gifts," and remembered that they used to sing it in chapel at Heathwood. Also a kid at Rosewood named David Krassky sang it in a school program.
Turns out that it's a very very popular Anglican/Episcopalian hymn called, I think (I looked it up, but don't feel like doing it again) "We Plow the Fields and Scatter." (Well, "Plough." I looked it up anyway.) I only spent 3d grade, 1970-1 at Rosewood, and never saw David Krassky again. Turns out that "Godspell" didn't even open on Broadway until late 1971. All these years I thought retroactively that the Episcopalians and young David were being infinitely hip doing this Broadway tune. Turns out that Broadway was being hip swiping an excellent Episcopalian hymn. The things you learn... eventually!
PS: Happy Thanksgiving!
Years later, I heard the musical "Godspell" for the first time when my high school girlfriend's Lutheran church put it on. I don't remember if "All Good Gifts" made an impression on me, but the rest of the music did. Eventually I bought a copy of the original Broadway cast recording, though this was probably a decade of more later. And that's when I noticed "All Good Gifts," and remembered that they used to sing it in chapel at Heathwood. Also a kid at Rosewood named David Krassky sang it in a school program.
Turns out that it's a very very popular Anglican/Episcopalian hymn called, I think (I looked it up, but don't feel like doing it again) "We Plow the Fields and Scatter." (Well, "Plough." I looked it up anyway.) I only spent 3d grade, 1970-1 at Rosewood, and never saw David Krassky again. Turns out that "Godspell" didn't even open on Broadway until late 1971. All these years I thought retroactively that the Episcopalians and young David were being infinitely hip doing this Broadway tune. Turns out that Broadway was being hip swiping an excellent Episcopalian hymn. The things you learn... eventually!
PS: Happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday, November 18, 2012
White noise
I can't decide whether white noise is good for sleeping or not. Last night I slept straight though until 6, but then couldn't get back to sleep. Of course, this may have been more because yesterday's Ethiopian food disagreed with me than because of the noise. One difference that blog readers will appreciate is that though I have vivid dreams under white noise conditions, I can't remember them at all when I wake up. I don't mind either, but I feel a lot less rested than I do on mornings when I've in fact slept a lot less. So I'll keep experimenting and see how I feel about it after a few more days.
One thing I'll say is that the second Droid app I downloaded, Relax & Sleep, is vastly better than the first one (White Noise). It is creepy that it seems to run 24 hours a day, even when the smart phone is sleeping. But I don't think it's anything dangerous. (Knock on wood.)
One thing I'll say about the drive on US 21 yesterday that wasn't fun: we got stuck behind a truck that was loaded with wood chips. I say "was"; most of them seemed to fly off and hit me in the windshield. I think there was supposed to be a net over the top, but I guess that would have been too hard. Paul took a picture, but I don't know how it turned out. Memo to Joel & Ethan Coen: woodchippers aren't all that fun even when they're used for their intended purpose. Fortunately, the road widened to four lanes after what only seemed like 100 miles, and we left the truck behind. As this was the only bad part of the whole cool day and even it was funny, I'll still call it a win.
One thing I'll say is that the second Droid app I downloaded, Relax & Sleep, is vastly better than the first one (White Noise). It is creepy that it seems to run 24 hours a day, even when the smart phone is sleeping. But I don't think it's anything dangerous. (Knock on wood.)
One thing I'll say about the drive on US 21 yesterday that wasn't fun: we got stuck behind a truck that was loaded with wood chips. I say "was"; most of them seemed to fly off and hit me in the windshield. I think there was supposed to be a net over the top, but I guess that would have been too hard. Paul took a picture, but I don't know how it turned out. Memo to Joel & Ethan Coen: woodchippers aren't all that fun even when they're used for their intended purpose. Fortunately, the road widened to four lanes after what only seemed like 100 miles, and we left the truck behind. As this was the only bad part of the whole cool day and even it was funny, I'll still call it a win.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Highway ironing
Night before last I noticed that I sleep a LOT better when the heat is running as much of the night as is possible. Or to put it another way, that white noise puts me out. After a brief, exhausting bout of thinking, it occurred to me that I might be able to find free white noise apps for the Droid. And I did! The one I tried first didn't have a lot of choices and few were good. I tried Airplane Ride, but it was too loud, and Crickets. The latter I could sleep with, but wound up having odd (but strangely, non-outdoor) dreams. I've found another app with vastly more choices. I'll try it out tonight.
When I was a lad, a theme park opened near Charlotte called Carowinds. At the time, I-77 didn't run from Columbia to Charlotte, so we had to take US 21 to visit. I remember a wonderfully rolling highway, almost as fun as the roller coasters we were on our way to ride. Today, just for a hoot (and to avoid getting locked in in Olympia for the last USC home game of the season), I went up to Charlotte, bringing Paul and taking US 21. Those weasels ironed it out! It was hardly rolling at all. The part that's still fun was the stretch between Ridgeway and Great Falls, but the rest was no more fun than the interstate.
On the other hand, it was an absolutely perfect autumn day and the colors were glorious almost the entire way, so it was a whole lot prettier than the interstate. And traffic on I-77 is a lot more rugged than it used to be, so it sure was a lot more restful than the interstate. But for roller coaster fun, I guess I'll have to shell out for Carowinds. Since my neck got better, that'll be a lot more worthwhile place to visit than the last time I went.
In Charlotte, we ate wonderful Eritrean food at Meskerem, bought CDs we aren't going to admit to at adjacent CD Warehouse (OK, I got Best of Al Stewart, John Mellencamp's eponymous, Robert Earl Keen #2 Live Dinner, Life's Rich Pageant and a Jimmie Lunceford compilation. All for $10.) And hit the Giocometti exhibit at the Bechtler, free for both of us because they honored their reciprocal agreement and Paul's Cola. Museum of Art membership. It was awesome, too. So a brilliant day, and still a show to go to tonight. The Monkey will eat me alive!
When I was a lad, a theme park opened near Charlotte called Carowinds. At the time, I-77 didn't run from Columbia to Charlotte, so we had to take US 21 to visit. I remember a wonderfully rolling highway, almost as fun as the roller coasters we were on our way to ride. Today, just for a hoot (and to avoid getting locked in in Olympia for the last USC home game of the season), I went up to Charlotte, bringing Paul and taking US 21. Those weasels ironed it out! It was hardly rolling at all. The part that's still fun was the stretch between Ridgeway and Great Falls, but the rest was no more fun than the interstate.
On the other hand, it was an absolutely perfect autumn day and the colors were glorious almost the entire way, so it was a whole lot prettier than the interstate. And traffic on I-77 is a lot more rugged than it used to be, so it sure was a lot more restful than the interstate. But for roller coaster fun, I guess I'll have to shell out for Carowinds. Since my neck got better, that'll be a lot more worthwhile place to visit than the last time I went.
In Charlotte, we ate wonderful Eritrean food at Meskerem, bought CDs we aren't going to admit to at adjacent CD Warehouse (OK, I got Best of Al Stewart, John Mellencamp's eponymous, Robert Earl Keen #2 Live Dinner, Life's Rich Pageant and a Jimmie Lunceford compilation. All for $10.) And hit the Giocometti exhibit at the Bechtler, free for both of us because they honored their reciprocal agreement and Paul's Cola. Museum of Art membership. It was awesome, too. So a brilliant day, and still a show to go to tonight. The Monkey will eat me alive!
Friday, November 16, 2012
Madurodam
What this town needs is a cheap, compact tourist attraction. Something like the Corn Palace, except we don't have much corn. Something, say like Madurodam. Madurodam is an ultra-cool little attraction at The Hague, The Netherlands (the country with all the definite articles). It's a miniature version of the entire country, or rather, it's a miniature version of the most popular attractions in the country. Well, not the hookers and not the reefer, but of the attractions likely to get put on a picture postcard. Cathedrals and towers and such like.
Admittedly, South Carolina isn't overflowing with scenic attractions (Rainbow Row, Table Rock mountain, an aircraft carrier) but hell, neither is The Netherlands. What we are overflowing with is artistic talent. All we would need is a little space and adjacent parking. It ought to be cheap, fun, and finally something that'll bring people to Columbia besides Tunnel Vision and the Zoo. I can sure see it!
(Amusingly, Google reviews for Madurodam are fairly grim. All I can say is it was really cool 25 years ago. I can't actually see the reviews; Google just sends me to Google Maps. They say that 17/30 = Good to very good, so maybe it isn't as tough a crowd as I was thinking.)
Admittedly, South Carolina isn't overflowing with scenic attractions (Rainbow Row, Table Rock mountain, an aircraft carrier) but hell, neither is The Netherlands. What we are overflowing with is artistic talent. All we would need is a little space and adjacent parking. It ought to be cheap, fun, and finally something that'll bring people to Columbia besides Tunnel Vision and the Zoo. I can sure see it!
(Amusingly, Google reviews for Madurodam are fairly grim. All I can say is it was really cool 25 years ago. I can't actually see the reviews; Google just sends me to Google Maps. They say that 17/30 = Good to very good, so maybe it isn't as tough a crowd as I was thinking.)
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Why are tennis balls fuzzy?
Dreams have been odd lately, as usual, but you're lucky that I don't remember much about them. In fact I've been sleeping really well lately. The big sleep issue was night before last when I woke up with pins and needles in my arm ('cause it's silly to say my arm was asleep when my whole body was asleep) and it took ages to get it to abate. I think I hit a nerve, something not unlike the funny bone, except not funny. But I got back to sleep no problem, which is a nice change.
The tennis ball dream featured a gas station except that once you got inside the convenience store part it was more like the checkout area of a Walmart in that there were untold numbers of kiosks each with a checker and a cash register. And above the cash register at each kiosk there was a locker, or maybe more like an overhead compartment on an airplane. And nobody was bothered that I went and checked them all out. And inside all of them were giant fuzzy tennis balls. But what bothered me, and continued to when I woke up, was why are tennis balls fuzzy? Were they always fuzzy? When the kings and queens of France played jeu de paumes, did they play with fuzzy balls, and if so where did they get them? Did they knit them from fleece?
I could look it up of course, but I'm much more enjoying being bewildered by it, and prefer to leave it as a rhetorical question. That and the related one: why aren't all balls fuzzy? If you can serve a fuzzy tennis ball 130 miles per hour, maybe fuzzy is best. Or the other related question: how fast would serves go if tennis balls WEREN'T fuzzy? Makes ya wonder, don't it?
The tennis ball dream featured a gas station except that once you got inside the convenience store part it was more like the checkout area of a Walmart in that there were untold numbers of kiosks each with a checker and a cash register. And above the cash register at each kiosk there was a locker, or maybe more like an overhead compartment on an airplane. And nobody was bothered that I went and checked them all out. And inside all of them were giant fuzzy tennis balls. But what bothered me, and continued to when I woke up, was why are tennis balls fuzzy? Were they always fuzzy? When the kings and queens of France played jeu de paumes, did they play with fuzzy balls, and if so where did they get them? Did they knit them from fleece?
I could look it up of course, but I'm much more enjoying being bewildered by it, and prefer to leave it as a rhetorical question. That and the related one: why aren't all balls fuzzy? If you can serve a fuzzy tennis ball 130 miles per hour, maybe fuzzy is best. Or the other related question: how fast would serves go if tennis balls WEREN'T fuzzy? Makes ya wonder, don't it?
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