A Fable

Once upon a time, there was a little girl playing with her new gifts from Santa (in particular, the Sunshine Family and their very granola-ish home - if you look closely you can see that Steffi, the mom, is wearing Birkenstocks) when the phone rang. It was the girl’s grandmother.

“Would you like to come up and visit with me?” asked the Grandmother.

The little girl thought about this, and she wanted to very much…but it was night and she was already in her pj’s, and it was cold out, and she would have to ask her mom to drive her up the hill to Grandma’s house, and then there were the new toys which were pretty fun…

“No, Gran’, I’ll just see you tomorrow.” said the little girl.

The little girl went to sleep, warm and sound. She was awakened early – it was still dark – because the phone rang. The little girl’s mother answered the phone.

And that is how the little girl found out her grandmother had died in her sleep that night.

Moral: Sometimes There Is No Tomorrow

In Memory of Lily McIntosh
December 20, 1920 – December 27, 1973

Multiple Choice

An Egyptian tomb discovered in 1964 has become the subject of a raging controversy amongst the archaeologist types.

Seems that the tomb of Niankhkhnum and Khnumhotep, manicurists to the king, could be one of three things, depending on your interpretation of the facts. So, here are the candidates:

1. It is the tomb of two gay men
2. It is the tomb of twin brothers
3. It is the tomb of conjoined twins

It is a complete aberration that two people of equal stature would be buried together. Most tombs were built for a noble man and his family.

The tomb art depicts the two men embracing and “nose-kissing”, which the article claims was the preferred method of kissing in Egypt. Although the men were married, there is no depiction of the wives in any of the art inside the tomb.

I find it incredibly absurd that someone would posit the theory that they were conjoined twins as a way to explain two men embracing, especially when the two men are shown separately, performing activities like fishing in marshes. I am going to be mature and leave the most sophomoric joke about how they might have been conjoined completely alone.

And lest we forget, they were the ROYAL MANICURISTS. ‘Nuf said.

Breathtaking Inanity Overruled!

There are moments when I am so ashamed of where I was born, I just want to hang my head and claim roots elsewhere...

That is exactly how I felt recently when morons from Pennsylvania decided to teach "intelligent design" in the classroom.

But, and I consider this a holiday gift, while reading the NYT this morning I see that my new hero is now John E. Jones III, (I will now refer to him as JJJIII) the judge who so eloquently voiced my opinions in his decisions:

Judge Jones, a Republican appointed by President Bush, concluded that intelligent design was not science, and that in order to claim that it is, its proponents admit they must change the very definition of science to include supernatural explanations.

Judge Jones excoriated members of the Dover, Pennsylvania school board, who he said lied to cover up their religious motives, made a decision of "breathtaking inanity" and "dragged" their community into "this legal maelstrom with its resulting utter waste of monetary and personal resources."

Let's all eat a banana in tribute to Mr. Scopes and JJJIII.

Feeling Lucky, Punk?

This holiday season, gift yourself with the perfect item for your inner child.

AND, free edible ammo (approximately 247 rounds). What the heck is better than that?

Marshmallowville. Just down the road from Campfireland.

(ps- the packaging comes with a warning label: "Do not eat marshmallows after shooting", but when you combine the dual forces of velocity and distance, factor in some vector anaylsis, you are sure to come up with an equation proving their edibility.)

Go for it.

Seperation of Church and State, At Least In The Kitchen

Once considered half animal and half fish, the Catholic Church proclaimed beaver acceptable to eat on Fridays.

The Mayan Green Room

I was truly stunned by the beauty of the newly discovered (and earliest) Mayan painting in this morning's NYT.

The detail and colors were superb. And I was enjoying reading about Mayan art, an area which I know far too little about.

That is until I got to this bone-headed statement talking about the room in which the mural was found:

Dr. Saturno suggested that it could have been the room - something like the greenroom in television studios - where the king rehearsed his public performances reinforcing his mythic right to rule.

Yeah. Right. Sure it was. And the Mayan king was like Leno.

New Music Tuesday - Samite

Today's CD comes to us from the mythic stacks of Hollywood Stafford. He had loaned me several CDs about a million years ago, and I never found the opportunity to sit down and to give them the time they deserved until tonight. My favorite by far was Tunula Eno by a Ugandan artist named Samite Mulondo.

The CD is gorgeous music, performed mainly on his collection of thumb pianos (kalimbas), flutes and other percussion instruments. His soothing, clear tenor floats over the rhythms like a warm breeze.

"An instrument already has a spirit and it comes with its own song. The rhythms were natural and they were in my blood, but I ended up with my own style. I am convinced that we are all moved by the same desires, needs and emotions, regardless of the language in which those feelings are expressed"

Despite the peacefulness and tranquility of his work, Samite has not had an easy life- he lost a brother during the regime of Idi Amin, endured a prolonged exile from his homeland, and is now a young widower.

Joseph Shabalala of Ladysmith Black Mambazo says that "When you hear the music of Samite, the soul of Africa is revealed to you."

That's good enough for me.

I also want to quote his wish for the holiday season:

As we come to the end of this year, it is important to remember to love and to accept love from others.

Calvin(o) and Hobbes

I received a marvelous gift from Scout the other day, and a great article arrived from the PenPal on the same day. Coincidence? Perhaps.

A smallish, very heavy box arrived for me and in it was the three-volume, 23-pound collection of all 3,160 Calvin and Hobbes strips that ran in newspapers between November 18, 1985 and January 1, 1996 by Bill Watterson, local resident of nearby Chagrin Falls..

Such fond memories of Calvin. When each new book came out, I would get one for the PenPal's Lil'Sis and draw a cartoon inscription on the cover page for her.

Then, I get an article about the great Italo Calvino, the author of one of my all-time favorite books. This coincides with my picking up Hermit In Paris, a collection of his autobiographical writings originally published in 1994, and translated to English in 2003.

In the end, it all comes down to reading, itself for yourself. Great literature or comic strips -doesn't matter. As Calvino said:

I can never sufficiently highly recommend the direct reading of the text itself, leaving aside the critical biography, commentaries, and interpretations as much as possible. . .

Don't Turn Me On

Dan Flavin was the reknowned artist who used mass-produced , off-the-shelf fluorescent lighting fixtures to create his inherently temporal light sculptures. He was making beauty from endlessly available supplies.

These "monuments" only survive as long as the light system is useful - about 2,100 hours. Flavin was quoted as saying he wanted to challenge the permanence of art.
"Bulbs burn out."

So, the joke is that the once anonymously industrial and readily available source materials are becoming hard to find. Manufacturers are disappearing. Sylvania stopped making green bulbs.

Before his death, Flavin had his assistant scour warehouses and came up with 600 spare bulbs that were stored to be used judiciously in the future, to replace bulbs that had burned out. Then he hired custom fabricators to make replicas of the bulbs he needed. The lighting fixtures themselves were then made from vintage templates rescued from the original factory.

So the preservation of Flavin's artistry is now in the hands of artisanal hand crafters that he was rebelling against.

Permanence and temporality. Off-the-shelf and handmade. Original and reproduction.

Flavin's sculptures with the original bulbs and hardware can sell for 3/4 of a million dollars.

So most collectors never actually plug them in, protecting their investments.

Symbolism In A Compass, Or A Shiny Nose

So let’s talk about Rudolph for a moment.

Once the girl of his dreams, Clarisse, kisses Rudolph on the cheek and tells him he’s cute, he is able to fly for the very first time. That is the power of having someone believe in you.

Yes, indeed, it wouldn’t be make-believe if you believed in me, as the song goes.

Clarisse loves her Rudolph for who he is, from the inside out, despite the fact that he is an outcast. And what of Rudolph’s other misfit friends? Rudolph is a story of acceptance, tolerance, and a lesson in looking beyond differences to see what makes us similar. It shows the cruelty of mocking and name-calling and the undeniable importance of encouragement.

And as Clarisse points out, the major lesson to be learned and owned for me is:

There’s always tomorrow for dreams to come true.

Even when that dream is better than anything you ever imagined.

How Do You Get THAT Delivery Route?

Barbra Streisand has canceled her subscription to the Los Angeles Times over the firing of the paper's liberal columnist, which she felt reduced the diversity of voices on its opinion pages. (With statements like that, I see a long career as a University professor for Ms. Streisand.)

Robert Scheer had been a Times columnist for 12 years. He was a reporter for the newspaper for 17 years before that.

Quoting from her letter:

Robert Scheer's column, with its often singular voice of dissent and groundbreaking expositional content, has been among the most notable features that have sustained my interest in subscribing to the LA Times for many years now.

The Red Cup – An Insider Story

I came across this interesting post today, about one of my favorite subjects: Starbuck's.

It heralds the arrival of the Red Cup, the harbinger of the holiday season. Being a classicist, I can't go in for eggnog lattes and that sort of thing, but my triple grande latte is made a wee bit more festive in a nice red cup. I have to admit to liking the design this year, especially the hand drawn row of Christmas lights around the rim. Nice touch, folks.

I really liked this story of struggle and intrigue, and the "behind-the-scenes" stuff that goes into something seemingly so simple as the cup that contains your morning brew. Read it. You might have a new appreciation for the amount of time, energy and talent that is spent on everything that you encounter.

And, lest we forget, all hail the print production gurus who make it happen.

Uh, Is There Free Shipping?

Well, your chance to own yet another piece of history is over, but some lucky person will have a quite a present to unwrap this Christmas - about two thousand square feet in fact.

The ORIGINAL 1923 H-O-L-L-Y-W-O-O-D sign, made of rusted and weathered and graffiti-ed barn roofing metal was put up for sale on EBay, and was sold for the bargain price of $450,400.

New Music Tuesday - Holiday Round Up

Three new holiday CD's to run down this year, and a classic track.

First up, Brian Setzer, with his second holiday CD, Dig That Crazy Christmas! The best tracks are the instrumental My Favorite Things, and Jingle Bell Rock, when Brian again gets to show off his guitar skills. His Grinch is fun, but the vocal can't live up to the hallowed Thurl Ravenscroft's classic. On the whole, the disc is a lot of fun, but nothing superb. On What Are You Doing New Year's Eve, a duet with Julie Reiten, it sounds as if the vocalists were listening to playback at different speeds...they are never in sync. It is very strange. And not in a good way.

Second, we are featuring Anita Baker's Christmas Fantasy. I have to give this release a low score, with the exception of the outstanding first track, Frosty's Rag, which I will eagerly add to future up-tempo holiday mixes. On the whole, the tracks are uninspired and overproduced for my tastes.

Batting clean-up this season is Diana Krall with her much-hyped Christmas Songs. Scout is quite the fan of Ms. Krall, and so we pledged not to listen to this one, until we could hear it together over Thanksgiving. I don't think there was a particular track that we were both impressed by, but if forced to pick a hit track, I'm going to have to go with Sleigh Ride. Again, the music is over produced, and despite the press to the contrary, to me it sounds like the there is little relation to the singer and band. It sounds to me as if the vocal track was just layed down over pre-recorded music. There is too little emotion and connection for a compelling jazz ballad.

I found a Christmas CD at the used record store, and thought it just might be bad enough to play at work, and for $2.50, it wasn't a bad bargain. Little did I know that included on this CD was Marlene Dietrich "singing" The Little Drummer Boy (or more correctly, Der Trommelmann). Oh, my friends, this is classic. And reason enough that Marlene was a film star. Just when you think the military drumming is going to put you over the edge, here comes the Village of the Damned Aryan Youth Choir to fill in the rum-pa-pa-pum's. What a joyous season.

(P.S. - My Penpal reminds me that she owns a 45 rpm of Marlene "singing" the classic, Too Old To Cut The Mustard)

Christians Target Target

Oh, For God's Sake.

So, the Times yesterday ran an article stating that The American Family Association is boycotting Target because Target doesn't use the words "Merry Christmas."

Not to be outdone, The Catholic League is boycotting Wal-Mart for similar reasons.

As a retail professional, with almost 20 holiday seasons served, I have to say that every place I have been affliated with asks employees to say "Happy Holidays." And I agree, as (I know this comes as a surprise to many) not everyone celebrates freakin' Christmas. Many occasions fall in the winter months, and "Happy Holidays " is a great way to acknowledge that without pushing your own beliefs onto anyone.

So, at this festive holiday season, all I want to say is, "Lighten up, People."

Your Holiday Gift Guide - A Public Sevice

With the holiday season approaching, I thought I'd help all of you Faithful Readers out with some important tips when you go out amongst the masses gathering your loved one's gifts.

As everyone knows, the alpenhorn tops just about everyone's list. But here are some tips taken from the TIPS FOR BUYING AN ALPENHORN webpage (yes, it's real) to help you choose the right alpenhorn for your loved one - it's almost as complicated as the adoption form at the ASPCA...

Seven Test Questions for the Purchase

1. Am I in contact with a group of Alphornplayers; did I look round and make inquiries about the Alphorn there? If not one should make up for that without fail. There is no better source for information than a group of Alphornplayers with practical experience. I can also recommend to get practical experience at a yodelers' festival. Furthermore a yodelers' club surely will be a help for all these questions. (This should not be a problem, as there are so many yodeler's clubs to choose from in the Greater Cleveland area...nyro4797)
2. Have I already played the Alphorn?
3. Do I want the Alphorn for decorating my home or do I want to begin a new hobby? (I think I saw that on Queer Eye...alphorn decor...nyro4797)
4. Are my teeth in order so that I shall succeed and enjoy the new hobby?
5. Is there a place where I can work daily without being disturbed?
6. Am I motivated enough for this daily working?
7. May I loan an Alphorn from the group where I am in contact?

I see some missed marketing opportunities with local dentists. Who knew? Good dental hygience and alphorn playing go hand in hand.

PLUS, you must have very special natural gifts (besides the good teeth) to be a player. These include:

The lips of the player
The teeth of the player
The embouchure of the player
The technique of breathing of the player
The physical condition
The ability of concentration
The level of the training
The musical talent
The experience

I bring this up because I am petitioning for embouchure to be the word of the day, or Pee-Wee's secret word from Conky. It means the shaping of the lips to the mouthpiece of a wind insturment. I tell ya, they have words for everything.

Now, use the word of the day in the sentence, happy INFORMED shopping, and... RICOLA!~

Give 'Til It Hurts : Audience Participation Requested

Howdy Faithful Readers!

Today I present you with a challenge. But first, the backstory...

My friend was involved with a holiday canned food drive for the needy. It is a well-known but sad fact that many people take these sorts of things as an opportunity to clear out their pantries. Which is all well and fine, except when you decide to donate a CAN OF LYCHEE NUTS. Yes, my friend actually witnessed this.

I propose a contest. If ANYONE can think of a more perfectly absurd, useless and insulting item, please post it here - and make sure I have your email address if you are declared a winner. Be forewarned, though, as I suspect that nothing will be able to de-throne the champ.

With Your Kind Indulgence...

The PenPal and I decided to get each other the ultra-deluxe Barbra Streisand: The Television Specials DVD set for Christmas this year. The set includes 1965's magnificent My Name is Barbra (winner of 5 Emmy Awards and the Peabody Award), 1966's Color Me Barbra (nominated for 5 Emmy's), 1967's rarity The Belle of 14th Street, 1968's A Happening In Central Park and 1973's Barbra Streisand...and Other Musical Instruments.

I was truly excited to own this as I have never seen Belle, and in particular BS&OMI. I owned the soundtrack to the latter, and listened to it quite often trying to envision what the show was like.

Well. Now I can tell you...

It's a good thing I never saw this back in the day...it would have been far too much for my teenage heart to handle.

Piano Practicing, the opener, is still one of my favorite bits, and Barbra looks GORGEOUS. It's one of those"I can sing/talk REALLY fast, with a funny Jewish/New York accent" bits done with just an eight year old pianist show-off sporting a forerunner of Adam Rich's haircut from"Eight Is Enough".

I've Got Rhythm, a 20 minute tribute to world music (she should get a credit in the annals of music history - I mean Barbra did it all from Native American drumming to Scottish bagpipes, in under 20 minutes) opens with Barbra running through the western orchestra as they are setting up. Watch the dude playing the saw. (What, they could find no theremin player?) Everything is all swell, until she makes him use his saw to even out the wobbly chair she is sitting on. This is clearly insulting to him, I mean, it is probably like the Stadivarius of saws, and she wants him to use it AS A SAW, destroying its finally honed and tempered sound. So watch at the end when she passes him by - he is CLEARLY thinking, "I can let the end of this go and it will slap your lilly white behind, lady" - OR -"Have you ever seen a magician saw a woman in half, lady? Let's give it a try."

Later, she descends on an Indian rope trick rope accompanied by some erotic sitar playing, in a gorgeous, form fitting (exposing) gown - her designers have certainly always known how to expose that woman's finest womanly parts - her back, legs and bosom. Wow.

Then she enters this little tunnel that makes you think a hookah smoking caterpillar is going to appear, and here is the part where I triple dog dare you not to COMPLETELY lose it -

She does a belly dance segment. Really. However, the costume is constructed in such a way that no skin shows, but, and here is the incredible part, they have sewn like, a saddle of bells to her posterior, and she flits about the set, shaking her rump at the camera. Really! Barbra Streisand!

So the final part of the rhythmic marathon ends with her virtuoso performance of holding a note for an extraordinarily long time. Like 20 seconds. Listening to this LP (repeatedly) I imagined the scene going down in a very different way. They cut to a montage (for those with a limited attention span who forgot all of the cultures visited in the past twenty minutes) and then right towards the end they cut back to her, and she is obviously reaching in and PULLING out every millisecond of air she possesses in the depths of her lungs...she is in pain. I vaguely recall reading that they attempted to film the scene again, and she passed out. I believe it. In my imagination though she just tossed it out like butter.

She does three numbers with the great Ray Charles, (which are not on the LP), and they are fabulous. And she even gets down with the sistas, the Raylettes (she looks incredibly frightened at one point when they get a teeny bit to close to her and start testifyin') on Sweet Inspiration/Where You Lead, and Ray is shown down center, in the foreground, just laughing away at those wacky chicks...

THEN comes Auf DemWasser Zu Singen, which is "really one of my favorites, and I'm sure it's one of yours. In fact, it is so much fun to sing, why don't you join in with me and y'know, sing along with Schubert?"done in a lovely lace Victorian-esque gown that I swear was her wedding dress in A Star is Born, and sporting Dolly Levi's hair from Hello Dolly.

THEN the moment we've all been waiting for, THE CONCERTO FOR VOICE....and Appliances. A Carol Burnett classic. I am pretty sure that the "musicians" are really the wait staff from the Harmonia Gardens - really. Check 'em out, they look just like they might break into Hello Dolly at any moment, and she is wearing the 'do after all. Either that or they were the orchestra from like, Benny Hill, because they are all weird old balding British looking men with bad teeth. Especially the guys playing the electric toothbrushes.

Now THERE'S a sentence I never thought I'd write....

A Good Day For Mad Scientists

Gentlemen, when two separate events occur simultaneously pertaining to the same object of inquiry, we must always pay strict attention. - Special Agent Dale Cooper

So today, a French woman, mauled by her pet Labrador Retriever, received the first human face transplant. I must admit to being confused over the controversy this announcement created. I mean, it isn't like they did a head transplant. The woman received the chin, lips and nose tissue from another French woman that committed suicide and was declared brain dead.

There are concerns about the woman's psychological ability to handle her appearance, which the doctor says will be an amalgamation of the two faces. I would worry about her ability to handle her and I quote, disfigured lipless grimace and her growing inability to open her mouth due to scar tissue formation.

So, if that isn't enough to whet your mad scientist appetite, score one for the fish! Seems an Israeli fisherman was rushed to a hospital with a nasty head wound - eight inches of a swordfish's sword was protruding from both sides of his cheeks. I wonder if he got a referral...