Did he really say that?

The kind of humor I like is the thing that makes me laugh for five seconds and think for ten minutes = GEORGE CARLIN...Stained glass, engraved glass, frosted glass–give me plain glass = JOHN FOWLES...Music is the mathematics of the gods = PYTHAGORAS...Nothing is more fluid than language = R.L.SWIHART

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Marble & Rose

We all need to smell the roses. That includes ancient Roman statues but they do not have to worry about the thorns. The text below is from artdaily.org.

A large image displayed on the Portland Art Museum building of the 2nd century, A.D. Roman marble statue, The Discobolus, appears to smell roses still in bloom in the park blocks in downtown Portland, Ore., Tuesday, Oct. 30, 2012. The statue, on loan from  The British Museum in London, is part of the museum’s  “The Body Beauty in Ancient Greece” exhibit.
AP Photo/Don Ryan

Running Wild




There is nothing wrong with letting your imagination run wild as long as it remembers your home address.





It also helps if your imagination imposes its' own curfew.

Happy Halloween





Today is designed for happiness & fun by dressing up in costume and assuming another identity.
They could have called it "Alter Ego Day," but Sigmund Freud wasn't consulted by the holiday makers.







I am presently dressed up as a guy in a bathrobe, sitting in front of his computer. Wearing the costume of a "Blog Examiner," I search for something.
The last time the title of a post began with the word Happy was the first day of this month. It was a birthday tribute to a Grandmother, referred to as Minnie.

Then I search for something else
For the month of October, the most commonly used word to initiate the title of a blogpost is Another...

More than any other day, Halloween is when we let our imaginations run wild.
Therefore, I will oblige but my Grandmother will be the focal point. I will put her in a costume with a complete makeover but she will still be a Minnie who entered this world in 1897. Were I to subtitle this post, it would be Another Minnie. Were I to give it a Halloween soundtrack, it would be Hoodoo Lady.
I now remove all holiday pretense and yield the floor to fact.

This is Memphis Minnie.

Louisiana-born Lizzie Douglas became an extraordinary blues guitarist, singer, and songwriter. As a teenager, she was playing for tips on the legendary Beale Street in Memphis.

"During the 1930s, Minnie moved to Chicago where she set the musical style by taking up bass and drum accompaniment, anticipating the sound of the 1950s Chicago blues."

Her first hit song, Bumble Bee was later recorded by Muddy Waters as "Honey Bee."

For more information on Memphis Minnie, either click on her name above or go to Wikipedia.
Happy Halloween to all of you and happy everything else...

Monday, October 29, 2012

Quoting Two Sources


The depth of my melancholy was only exceeded by my depth in concealing it...Then I have to stop being me. But whenever I step outside myself, I get arrested for trespassing.
Just to keep himself on his toes, God created atheists...To keep atheists on his toes, he created imagination
.


Soren Kierkegaard is the source of the first sentence. For better or worse, I am responsible for all that follows it.

Kafka In Alaska



I would need all of your fingers–and mine–plus all of our toes to count the quality television shoes that were influenced by Northern Exposure. But the imdb.com link directs you to a specific episode: the finale of Season Three.
CICELY, named for the Alaskan town in which the series is set, is the most historical episode of Northern Exposure.

Except for the spellbinding narrator and the founding sisters of the town–Roslyn & Cicily (sic)–all the characters in the historical sequences are regular cast members in dual roles. Foremost amongst the duality is the 1910-ish visit to Alaska by Franz Kafka. He finds both love in his heart and an insect in his brain.

Maybe I shouldn't have told you that but I will tell you this: Kafka appears about halfway through this youTube clip but it is well worth the wait.


Blogger's Note
"There are no coincidences, there are only cosmic parallels."
I quote myself only because the original broadcast date of the CICELY episode was May 18, 1992, a/k/a my 43rd birthday.
Therefore, I thank God, Godette, and their select subcontractors.

Meanwhile, Up In Idaho...



Upcoming Trick-or-treaters
Ty Sherman is The Scream; Kaesha Jackson is Mona Lisa; and Sam Sherman is American Gothic. The children pose for a photo at this year’s Boo at the Zoo Boise in Boise, Idaho on Saturday, Oct. 27, 2012.




The partially modified text and photo (Darin Oswald/The Idaho Statesman) are from our everybody's good friends at artdaily.org


Halloween is as good a time as any for kids to appreciate famous art. But if these trick-or-treaters knocked on my door, the surrealist in me might give them fur-lined cupcakes.

Professor Morganfield Denies Rumors


On October 27, I received a letter from the Lewis Carroll School in Piscataway NJ. Most of its' contents were published two days ago but there was a postscript from Professor McKinley Morganfield.

Just because the Rolling Stones got their name from one of my alter ego's songs doesn't mean I had anything to do with their upcoming concerts in Newark, New Jersey.

Newark, New Jersey?
Newark, NJ?
Newark?

NEW ARK?

Holy Moses! Is there a New Ark ?
Is there a new arc to Reality ?





If you think I conjure all this stuff out of mid-air, you can have the concert information direct from the gorilla's mouth.






Blogger's Note
If you would like to see how Rock&Roll legends become mere mortals in the presence of a God, check out this video. Mr. Jagger steps onto the stage at about halfway through Muddy Waters' song.

World Series Woman: A Fairy Tale


The San Francisco Giants had a Panda & a Posey.

The Detroit Tigers had a Prince & a player with a Triple-Crown but royalty wasn't enough.

The Giants won the 2012 World Series.


The Tigers might have roared their way to victory if only their manager's daughter were on the coaching staff!
Family is everything.



Blogger's Note
For fans of Kafka's Metamorphosis, the San Francisco Giants had a Gregor who became a bug in the bonnet of the Detroit Tigers.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Love Is All You Answer

Subtitle = Another Arthur Lee

Recently, the Institute of Inane Research–based in Piscataway, NJ–
surveyed sixty survivors of the Sixties. Qualifying for the survey
required nothing more than intimate familiarity
with the popular music of that period.

One and only one question had to be answered:

Which band from the "Sixties" did not get all the due credit it deserved?

Given the influence of the Beatles and the subsequent British Invasion,
the survey extended from the United States to England.


The most common answer given was a most pertinent
but volcanically vague word: LOVE

However, all ambiguity goes out the window
when it is written this way:



The heart & soul of  LOVE
was Arthur Lee.

His name, per se, significantly
lacks pizazz but Arthur certainly
had his finger on the psychedelic
pulse of the Sixties.




In this photo, Arthur Lee is talking
with another Sixties musician
who did not lack recognition
during that era.

But Jimi Hendrix had to go to England
before Americans could appreciate
his genius.


Ironically (and virtually), this blogger (and the Institute)
had to go to England to find a website that provides
due praise for Arthur Lee & LOVE.

The website provides enough links to justify
the results of the Inane Research.


The Red Telephone, written by Arthur Lee and performed by LOVE,
contains the following verse:

Sometimes I deal with numbers
And if you want to count me
Count me out.

The Red Telephone was described in the survey as
"An existential dilemma with symphonic strings and then some."
For copyright reasons, only one verse of the song could be posted.

However, for your "surrealist delight," all the lyrics
of Seven And Seven Is are included below.
Feel free to sing along:

When I was a boy I thought about the times I'd be a man
I'd sit inside a bottle and pretend that I was in a can
In my lonely room I'd sit my mind in an ice cream cone
You can throw me if you wanna 'cause I'm a bone and I go
Oop-ip-ip oop-ip-ip, yeah!

If I don't start cryin' it's because that I have got no eyes
My father's in the fireplace and my dog lies hypnotized
Through a crack of light I was unable to find my way
Trapped inside a night but I'm a day and I go
Oop-ip-ip oop-ip-ip, yeah!

One... Two... Three... Four!


The next Inane page is here.


Another Letter From LCSoL




Mr. Oliverio (a/k/a G. FatMat)

We appreciate your returning the suppressed chapter of ALICE IN WONDERLAND. However, we did not expect you to suppress most of its' contents from your blogsite. The other item you returned–the "Little Alice" figurine–is now back in her rightful place: the Wonderland Velour Garden. Once again, she enhances the infamous sign:
Paranoia is never having to say you're lonely because there is always someone close behind you.


This is the last opportunity for you to share a full page of The Wasp In A Wig text from the 1977 SMITHSONIAN Magazine article.
Enlargement is but one click away.

Akin to last opportunities, your recent post of Marcel DuTramp's dreamworld poetry will be his last appearance on these pages–despite the poetic sentiment being contrary to the spirit of the Resident Artist/Poet of the Long Beach Jetty.
Dreams must always end
But you can always pretend.


Do not be discouraged, Paul, because We Three are mirthematically joined at the hips. The creator of ALICE IN WONDERLAND would have it no other way and our parents will always love you. Therefore, we paraphrase (poorly phrase?) the Walrus:
The time has come
The Juniors said
–From their Piscataway perch
–To give bloggerhythm
To the Institute of Inane Research

Sincerely,
Etta Seamster & Daniel DiMaria
Lewis Carroll School of Logic (a/k/a LCSoL)
Piscataway, NJ 08854


That's the story of
That's the Glory of Love.

The Schnozz

Friday, October 26, 2012

Reality Intervention




...And maybe save a few bucks on a fish dinner.



Shoe ©
Chris Cassatt & Mary Brookins




Blogger's Note
SHOE, created by Jeff MacNelly, celebrated its 35th Anniversary last month. His wife's signature appears in the first panel above.

But The Other Thing...


...is still called a job.



Better a Tension Plan
Than an Unemployment Plan






Bottomliners©
Eric & Bill Teitelbaum

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Once upon a ballfield...




Once upon a time...there was a sixteen inning baseball game where all the pitches thrown and all the runs scored were produced by future Hall Of Famers.

Never upon a ballfield did that happen before or since.

In not quite those words, announcer Tim McCarver talked about that game during yesterday's World Series broadcast.

On July 2, 1963, Warren Spahn and Juan Marichal pitched fifteen shut-out innings in front of fifteen thousand fans at Candlestick Park.


San Francisco Giant manager, Alvin Dark wanted to take Marichal out of the game but the Dominican Dandy told him
"If that old man can stay in the game, so can I."

The Milwaukee Braves' Warren Spahn was forty-two years old at the time.

In the top of the sixteenth inning, Marichal gave up a base hit sandwiched between two flyouts and a groundout.
With one out in the bottom of the sixteenth, Warren Spahn might or might not have remembered that a dozen years prior, the next batter hit the first homerun of his career against him.







Willie Mays then hit the game-winning homerun. It was the only run scored in the game but sometimes one is all it takes.









Blogger's Notes
Four other Hall-Of-Famers were featured in this game. The hyperlink above connects to the box score of that fabled "pitcher's duel."
The Milwaukee Braves' 2nd Baseman–LEE MAYE–is the only player listed to have attended Jefferson High School and have a successful career as a doo-wop singer.


Tim McCarver, who inspired this post, may not be familiar with this particular song but I am certain that Tim McGraw is. The country singer's father, Tug McGraw, performed with "Arthur" Lee Maye in a band called Southern Lights.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

...Nothing But Alternate Lyrics

I dreamt that the "Poet Laureate of the Long Beach Jetty" revised the lyrics
of the most recent song posted.

I dreamt that Marcel DuTramp stood upon a huge boulder and recited,
rather than sung, the following.

When all your lights
Turn green
And kindness conveys
All that you mean

Dance with the sky
Without wondering why

When every foe
Becomes friend
May this never
Never end

Kiss the hand that smiles
With its secrets in your files

When your every Jack
Becomes your Jill
And wherever you’re at
Is the top of the hill

Dance with the earth
Without questioning its worth

When every word spoken
Is a song to be sung
May you stay
Forever young.

That’s the story of
That’s the glory of
Love.

The next Marcel DuTramp "page" is here
 

Blogger's Notes
Before the boulder and the poet disappeared, Marcel had parting words:
Dreams must always end...But you can always pretend.

The first Marcel DuTramp page is there.

...Nothing But THE GLORY OF LOVE




LOVE IS THE KEY TO EVERYTHING

Either repeat these words five times
or listen to the Five Keys at least once.








Blogger's Notes
My neighbor–and fellow condominium owner–is now an honorary member of the Plan 9 Music
concept. His name is David.
GLORY OF LOVE was written by Billy Hill.
Marv Goldberg interviewed Five Keys' lead singer, Rudy West, amongst other members of the doo wop group.






Tuesday, October 23, 2012

From A Drinking Buddy Of Scott & Zelda


The poet who wrote
In the room
Women come and go
Talking of Michaelangelo
won the Nobel Prize in 1948 when he was sixty years old.
Two years later, T.S. Eliot had this to say:






The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do things and yet are not decrepit enough to turn them down.








The verse is from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. The red ink above links to the text of the poem. For a virtual video of T.S. Eliot reciting Prufrock, click here.



Bloger's Note
The age quote appears on this day in A Book of Days for the Literary Year

Aint Nothing But Marcel DuTramp


I'm not sure how the poetry jives with the "photo strip" but Marcel DuTramp
referred to the former as the "words of wisdom or words of wisdumb."

Mr. DuTramp is also known as the Resident Artist of the Long Beach Jetty.







Reincarnation aint nothing but recycling of the master species...

Loneliness aint nothing but solitude with attitude...

Suicide aint nothing but death in a fast-forward mode...

But we all get to bellydance with reality.


Sometimes the tongue can burn a hole in the cheek.

Like all dairy products, the milk of human kindness
has an expiration date.

The more sensible a man is, the less sensible is his behavior.

People need communication skills in order to overcome
their infinitely superior miscommunications skills.

Communication, like sex, is a wonderful thing
when a second party is involved.


Beware of spring chickens who think they are about
to lay the golden egg.

The MTV generation mistakes enthusiasm for talent
and vitriol for valor.

It is necessary to be resourceful but not necessarily
with other people's resources.

The man with thirty-seven cents is King
in the Land of Empty Pockets.

When the bad guy dies, death becomes
God's pooper scooper.

We must always be wary of words
like must and always.

Never trust a man who always tells the truth.


The next Marcel DuTramp page is here.

ALL of the DuTramp quotes are the copyrighted property
of the Lewis Carroll School of Logic.

Regarding usage or performance of any quote therein,
please contact this website.

The "photo strip" was inspired by sculptor Alberto Giacometti.


Pinhead Quote








I don't care how many angels they can fit on the head of a pin as long as they leave me some dancing room.











Blogger's Note
The quote has been atrributed to Zelda Fitzgerald, Eleanor Roosevelt, Teddy Roosevelt and Zelda the Cat.




"Reality"






"Reality" is neither the subject nor the object of true art which creates its own special reality having nothing to do with the average "reality" perceived by the communal eye.
Vladimir Nabokov
Pale Fire










Blogger's Notes
For reasons beyond my control, Vladimir is not an honorary LCSoL Artist but he would be most flattered to know that.
However, I personally credit PALE FIRE for inspiring Oh Gee! I Am A Poem and personally wish that all true artists had Nabokov's marketing skills.

Photograph courtesy of the Estate of Vladimir Nabokov

Monday, October 22, 2012

Willie Wood's Tears................................... ....................(A pure text SHORT STORY)


Someday, bar bets will be won by proving that championship football games existed
before the Super Bowl was invented.
One of them featured such legendary names as Yelbarton Abraham and Ringo Starr.
But it was not a game of Rabbis against Rock & Rollers.

"Ringo Starr" was actually two people: Jim Ringo hiked the ball to Bart Starr,
the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers.
Yelbarton Abraham, the opposing quarterback, was better known as Y.A. Tittle.
He wore a San Francisco 49er uniform before the team’s current head coach–
Jim Harbaugh–was born.

In 1960, the bald-headed Tittle was traded to the New York Giants.

On December 30, 1962, the Giants and the Packers played at Yankee Stadium
for the National Football Championship.

Life was simpler then. The entire NFL season fit into one calendar year.
Professional football was not as popular as it is today. The game was not a sell-out.
A local TV black-out created an abyss in the heart of every ticketless
New York City football fan.

The hole in nine-year old Hank Haligram’s heart was surgically removed when his father
received an invitation to watch the game at an NBC studio in Hartford, Connecticut.

Hank Haligram was the envy of all his friends. He was doubly excited about going beyond
the state of New York for the first time in his life. However, that excitement was compromised
on the morning of the game when the temperature was an unwholesome three degrees.

Sal Haligram drove across the Whitestone Bridge and through the Bronx to Westchester.
He stopped at a Shell station for gas, hot chocolate, Good&Plenty and unfiltered Pall Malls.
He entered Connecticut on the New England Thruway which Hank was to remember
as the "New Endland Throw Away."

Father & son proceeded to a town called Cos Cob.
The house where they met Mr. Mallid and Mr. Rimac–their escorts to the TV studio–
could barely be seen from the street.
Sal had told the boy that these men were network "VeePs."
Hank Haligram understood that to mean they were Vice-Presidents or executive bigshots
at NBC, not to be confused with such NBC personalities as Walt Disney and Jack Paar.

There were numerous other VeePs at the studio in Hartford. All of whom were introduced as "Mr. ______" and were always addressed in that manner by Hank's father
whom they all called "Sal."

Sal was the head bartender at the French Cafe in Rockefeller Center,
where the National Broadcasting Company has its national headquarters.

The only non-Veeps Hank Haligram was introduced to were Andrew and Robert, the sons of the escorts, who took him out for lunch before the game began.

"Don' t come back until the dancing girls leave," Mr. Mallid told them.

Over pepperoni pizza, Andrew and Robert mostly talked about girls,
particularly Barbra Devine.
She was the daughter of Andy Devine, who had hosted Hank's favorite TV show, Andy's Gang.
She was also Robert's classmate at a "Yale University."
Hank Haligram was fascinated by this enlightening information and wondered if Yale required students to be a member of Andy's Gang.
***

By game time, the wind-chill factor was minus fifteen degrees and very little offense was generated in the 1962 National Football Championship game.
After the Packers re-covered a Giant fumble, fullback Jim Taylor scored on a 7-yard run.

At halftime, it was
Green Bay 10, New York 0

Early in the 2nd half, Giant fans had something to cheer about when Erick Barnes
blocked a punt. The ball was recovered in the end zone for a touchdown.
Trailing 13-7 in the 4th quarter, Tittle led the Giants downfield.

The biggest play was a pass interference penalty called against Willie Wood.
He was on the ground when the flag was thrown. He rolled over to get up on his feet
but knocked down an official in the process. Wood, a defensive back who would be enshrined in the football Hall of Fame, was ejected from the game but protested vehemently.

He was so distraught, he started crying.
(Or so it appeared to the biased and boisterous New York Giant fans
in the Connecticut television studio.)

The Giants had 1st-and-l0 on the Green Bay 17-yard line. Everybody at Yankee Stadium and in the NBC studio was going nuts. A few of the VeePs rubbed Hank's head for good luck
but it backfired.
After repeated penalties and incomplete passes, the Giants had to punt the ball away.
They posed no further threat to the Vince Lombardi-coached Packers and the final score was
Green Bay 16, New York 7
One of the Veeps in the studio remarked that there should have been a special trophy for Willie Wood's tears.
Then the real fun began.
***

Mr. Mallid, Mr. Rimac, Sal & son headed for home but the hosts decided to stop at a restaurant for dinner. Hank Haligram drank milk with his meal, his father drank coffee but Mallid and Rimac drank martinis, many of them.
The waitress exercised great restraint while being repeatedly goosed by the VeePs. When they left the restaurant, Mallid and Rimac staggered out to the car and Mr. Mallid slipped on the ice and hit his head against the bumper of his brand new 1963 Oldsmobile Delta 88.
He was not hurt but he let Mr. Rimac drive the car.

Within the first mile on the Connecticut Turnpike, Rimac sideswiped a pick-up truck parked on the shoulder of the road. One wobbly mile later, Rimac yielded the wheel to Mr. Mallid and his headbump. It was not much of an improvement.
During an eternity on that turnpike, Hank Haligram kept repeating a mantra:
Mr. Mallid, Mr. Rimac, pleeease let my Father drive.
Each time Hank said it, the Veeps laughed louder, mimicking the voice of the terrified boy in the backseat of their car. Sal Haligram said nothing.

The behemoth Oldsmobile swerved all over the road but miraculously survived the New Endland Throw Away and returned to Cos Cob without further damage.
As soon as they got there, Hank threw up the chicken cacciatore he had for dinner.
His father immediately called home to allay his mother's fears.

The Haligrams drove home very cautiously. Hank fell asleep in the driver's lap and dreamt about swimming in Willie Wood's tears as they filled Yankee Stadium.



Blogger's Notes
Some of the names have been changed to protect the protectable.

Willie Wood's Tears © was originally written in 1998.

This blogger is deeply indebted to the Burbank Public Library Reference librarian
for both her research and her extraordinary patience.

You may now feast your eyes on the Google image page for the
1962 NFL WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP

Oh Gee! I Am A Poem




Gee I am a tree
Either shade I give to thee
Or I bear fruit
And you know my root

Consider the latter
And the following matter:

I must absorb
As you pluck the orb
Taken in haste
To satisfy your taste.

Or when stripped in bulk
I will not ever sulk
With saddened head
As offspring pyramid on flatbed

To market they’re bound
Succulent and round
Nutriously able
For anyone’s table

Yes. My purpose is served
As your diet is observed.
From my crown to my feet
I wish you bon appetit.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Istanbul Blues, 2012








Music can soothe the savage beast or make a sculptor think larger than life.









Jaume Plensa
Istanbul Blues, 2012
AP Photo/Francois Mori




Blogger's Note
For more info, go to artdaily.org

Forty Words







A man aint worth a damn till he turns forty.
John Mellencamp









When I was thirty-five, I thought the whole world was my oyster but when I turned forty everything smelled fishy.

Ambrose Antheeficus







After the age of forty, a moratorium has to be declared.
Saul Bellow
The Theft






Blogger's Notes
The first quote is from an open forum website. But in an undated TIME Magazine–prior to the forum source–Mellencamp was quoted verbatim:
A man aint worth a #*!*# till he turns forty.

The Bellow photograph is from ≈ 1989, the year The Theft was published. The novelist was born in 1915.





Friday, October 19, 2012

Dubious DuTramp & The Proverbial L.G.

Maybe, I would have been more receptive to him if my mega-walk from home to the jetty (round-trip ≈ 10 miles) wasn't without the ritual back-packed book & cigarets. Maybe if I had stopped at the gym for stretching purposes or Peets for coffee, I would have been less Zen and more amenable to the Resident Artist of the Long Beach Jetty.


"Marcel, this is a photograph of what, exactly?"
"Look a little closer."
"A blur is a blur is a blur."



"Do you not recognize what is being blurred?"
"Skyscrapers balancing on the top of someone's hair."
"The someone's hair is this rock formation and the skyscrapers are the shoreline. Need I say more?"
"When clouds disperse, clarity starts dancing."
"Are those your own words, Paul?"
"They're yours if you want them, Marcel."
"I'll take them. Thank you."

Marcel feigned a bow of gratitude, gesturing with his hand as if I had handed him a piece of paper. He mimicked stuffing it into a back pocket.

I went through the proverbial looking glass. I was giving him something to value, rather than vice versa. That made me feel good enough to ask a question.

"Are there any words that go along with this photograph?"
"Of course. The picture is the title card for a poem called Dubious Truth."
"I'm all ears, Marcel."
"And I will commit the rhyme."
"I'll be sure to blockquote it."

Fact and fiction
Go for a ride
On the slippery slope
Together they slide.

Without the Lie
Where does Truth hide?

There it does begin
And there it does end
The Lie is
The Truth's best friend.

Marcel DuTramp was wearing blue sweat pants and a matching sports jersey, bearing the number 41. On the backside of the jersey, above the number was the logo of the ACE hardware store chain.


From a seated position, I applauded the recitation of the Dubious Truth as if #41 had just scored a winning touchdown. We were at the approximate midpoint of the mile-long Jetty.
Marcel began the trek back to shore. I don't know how many cats crawled out of the rocks to follow him but if truth be blurred, I counted forty-one.
Fact was not jiving with fiction, obviously, but I needed the stretch.


The next Marcel DuTramp page is here.


Thursday, October 18, 2012

Anita O'day Day

This is another "through the looking glass white on the outside black on the inside" singer. Anita O'day had a storied career.
(I slightly modified and colorized the following email from Lester Perkins.)


Anita O'Day, born this day in 1919.

One of the great jazz singers
giving a stunning performance
at the height of her powers.

Don't miss this one.

Please go full screen on this video


- Lester Perkins
Jazz on the Tube

P.S. Please share Jazz on the Tube with your friends and colleagues.

If they like jazz, they're going to love this.

===============================

Help keep Jazz on the Tube on the air.


===============================
Amacord, Inc.
14 North Road
Tivoli, NY 12583
Blogger's Note's
Anita O'Day will make your feet sing when you see her with Roy "Little Jazz" Eldridge and Gene Krupa.
Happy #93, Anita.
Finally! A birthday that is not eclipsed by my sister or Grandmother (or the Bricktop Sequence).

This Is Not Gangsta Rap




I'm eighteen with a bullet

Got my finger on the trigger

Gonna pull it





Do not let these threatening lyrics fool you. This is not gangsta rap. It is a song from 1975. Sung in pitch-perfect doo wop style, "Eighteen" features the kind of pure vocal harmony that went out of style a decade before the song was recorded.

The lead singer of Eighteen With A Bullet is Pete Wingfield. I'm certain that bets have been lost as to his racial identity. The best way to answer that question is to paraphrase Jefferson High School's Nikki Hill. Think of Pete Wingfield as white on the outside and black on the inside.

But don't let the last paragraph fool you. Mr. Wingfield is much more than a singer. Wikipedia describes him as an "English record producer, keyboard player, songwriter, singer and music journalist." He is also a tongue-in-cheek satirist, redundancy notwithstanding.

The Eighteen refers to the Billboard chart position and the Bullet refers to a hit song that is quickly climbing up the charts.

As a pianist, Pete Wingfield has recorded with B. B. King, Van Morrison and a guy named Paul McCartney. For eighteen years, he toured with the Everly Brothers.



Frieda Ensultem, an executive officer of Plan 9 Music concept insists on this addendum.
Anyone who thinks Pete Wingfield, of Eighteen With A Bullet fame, is a One-Hit Wonder is someone with a one-digit IQ.


Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Another LCSoL Author


...With another restriction against inclusion of a photograph.
Married people who do not have a problem with adultery regard the act as a mere parking violation, rather than an invitation to divorce court...Their lives do not come unglued by a little third-party hump and thump because their eyes can read beyond the pages of the Bible. But after ten parking violations, the car might get towed away.
Matt Maddox
Imaginary Number


Blogger's Note
The quoted author is one of the "Mystery Men" affiliated with the Lewis Carroll School of Logic but everything he wrote is the school's copyrighted property.

The Rhinoceros-Man Quandary



A man can look at a rhinoceros and say There is a creature that looks as if it didn’t exist. But a rhinoceros will look at a man and barely take notice.
Marcel DuTramp

The next Marcel DuTramp page is here

An Onion From Poland

No telling who you will meet in cyberspace.
Yesterday, in a truly serendipitous moment, I linked up with a photograph from Truml.com.
One good link deserves another and when I ultimately encountered the phrase nothing but pure onionhood...

Wislawa Szymborska is easier to type than to pronounce. Were she to have come to America during the European mass migration at the beginning of the 20th century, someone at Ellis Island might have stamped her papers "Wallis Sims." But she was much too smart for that to have happened, not to mention too late. She was born in 1924.
Many of her poetry books have been translated into English.
"Wit, wisdom and warmth are equally important ingredients in the mixture of qualities that makes her so unusual and every poem of hers so unforgettable."
-New York Review of Books
In 1996, she was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for Literature. She died on February 1, 2012.


the onion

the onion, now that's something else
its innards don't exist
nothing but pure onionhood
fills this devout onionist
oniony on the inside
onionesque it appears
it follows its own daimonion
without our human tears

our skin is just a coverup
for the land where none dare to go
an internal inferno
the anathema of anatomy
in an onion there's only onion
from its top to it's toe
onionymous monomania
unanimous omninudity

at peace, at peace
internally at rest
inside it, there's a smaller one
of undiminished worth
the second holds a third one
the third contains a fourth
a centripetal fugue
polypony compressed

nature's rotundest tummy
its greatest success story
the onion drapes itself in it's
own aureoles of glory
we hold veins, nerves, and fat
secretions' secret sections
not for us such idiotic
onionoid perfections

Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh


Tuesday, October 16, 2012

More Love For Sale


Today we have a real treat in the form
of this great filmed performance by
singer Carmen McRae from 1962. Here she
sings the song a beautiful rendition
of the Cole Porter classic "Love For Sale".

Video:

http://www.jazzonthetube.com/page/916.html

- Lester Perkins
Jazz on the Tube

P.S. Please share Jazz on the Tube with your
friends and colleagues.

If they like jazz, they're going to love this.

================================

Help keep Jazz on the Tube going

Tell your friends about us...

http://www.JazzontheTube.com


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14 North Road
Tivoli, NY 12583

Franz Kafka On Trial

From artdaily.org:

A Tel Aviv court has ruled on Friday, Oct. 12, 2012, that a collection of manuscripts written by Franz Kafka and Max Brod must be transferred to the Israeli National Library in Jerusalem.



Undated handout file photo of author Franz Kafka



Blogger's Note
More than two years ago, the full story behind this trial was reported in the New York Times.



Monday, October 15, 2012

Clothespin Honesty


In 1962, Joan Baez earned the right to be on the cover of TIME Magazine. She was the undisputed Queen of Folk Music at a time when there was no such thing as an undisputed King of Folk Music. But many contenders aspired to the throne and many pretenders claimed it as their own.

One of the "contenders" had the Queen in his corner. Joan Baez, with a voice descended from the heavens, was awestruck by a male folksinger who TIME described in the following manner.




He delivers his songs in a studied nasal that has just the right clothespin-on-the-nose honesty to appeal to those who most deeply care.



The folksinger was Bob Dylan. The November 23, 1962 issue of TIME had more to say about the 21-year-old "promising hobo." But this was the first time his name ever appeared in the magazine.

On the TIME-archives link, there is an antique video clip of Dylan's clothespin-on-the-nose hostility directed toward a TIME magazine reporter.

Bob Dylan's fifty-year career is detailed in the magazine's archival website which proves that The TIME...It is a changing.




Blogger's Note
The italic quote above the blogger's note is the exclusive property of absolutely nobody.

Another Pig Post



D’you imagine an animal is a fool? No sirree! That animal is smarter than man, even though you call it a pig...Say, for instance, a man crosses your track, he won’t even notice it, but if a pig comes across it, it will turn away and run off.
Leo Tolstoi
The Cossacks

Another Louie & Another History







Who better than Louis Armstrong can provide a toe-tapping, finger-snapping history lesson that should be required learning for anyone with an ear?

Louie de B de B







He was born Louis de Branges de Bourcia. He prefers to be known as Louis de Branges.
But I am a slangoholic who is certain that Professor De Branges would not object to the title of this post. The certainty stems from the fact that this genuine fully-credentialed alive-and-well Godfather of Math inspired the following quote from Ronald Graham





To do creative work in mathematics or in most any field, you have to see things in a different way and approach things from a different point of view. That tends to carry over to your whole life. You tend not to fit into the standard mold, and if you deviate in a lot of ways, people are not going to include you. How do you deal with the people who are so creative that it's disruptive to have them around.




Blogger's Note
Describing Louis DeBranges as a Cornell Ph.D or describing Ronald Graham as the ex-President of the International Jugglers Association would be like saying Louis Armstrong is a man who owned a trumpet.

Speaking of Porky Pig





If you cast enough pearls before swine, somewhere amidst them is bound to be one cute little piglet.












Blogger's Note
If you google-image for the above, she can be your ring-tone but the words are the copyrighted property of
I will only repeat myself so many times

Speaking In Code

Some backstory is necessary before introducing a quote affiliated with the ever-present Lewis Carroll School of Logic.

When I last walked five miles to the Long Beach Jetty, I brought Little Alice along "for the ride." Within the first mile, she insisted on having herself re-photographed in front of the Shell Tree.
"Why?"
"Because I like Madeline."
I obliged her. However...when I reached the jetty, Little Alice had fallen asleep. That sort of thing happens at any given moment because her existence–despite her youthful appearance–began well over a hundred years ago.
(Alice In Wonderland was originally published in 1865.)

When the administration of the LCSoL saw the picture of Little Alice & Madeline's Shell Tree, they came up with an idea. But their wording is a cumbersome legalistic mouthful.
Any quotation set adjacent to the aforementioned photograph automatically establishes our exclusivity.

As for the "quotation" it is–figuratively–an old concept wearing new shoes, with an alliterative shine.
It has to do with familiarity between people. The more familiar people are, the more coded their language but not necessarily using secret words:












>>>Camaraderie coddles cliches













That's all folks.
See you next post but caution is necessary when you–or I–quote cliched phrases.
That's all folks may very well be the copyrighted property of Porky Pig!




Sunday, October 14, 2012

Lightning Bugs and Lightning

















When Mark Twain said 

The difference between the right word and the almost right word
is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug,


he may have caused an uproar amongst the lightning bug lobby.


If more important words were ever written about
the writing process, they have yet to be translated
into the English language.

But lightning bugs sure can be cute.


Nine more Twain quotes–all bug-free–
can be found here. 

Saturday, October 13, 2012

TV Or Not TV


Non Sequitir

WILEY

10/9/12

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Noble Lyrics, Ray

Ten/Eleven
Calling Heaven

Hello.
May I speak with Linda?
Are you one of us or one of them?
Am I one of what?
You've answered the question,
Please hold the line.
Will do.

Still holding
But I never count sheep
Thank you, Buddy.









Happy #66







Cedarhurst, NY ≈1952





Blogger's Note
Ray Noble was the bandleader but LINDA was actually written by Jack Lawrence. The "Linda" singing with Buddy Clark was Anita Gordon.
According to Wikipedia, Mr. Lawrence wrote the song for the daughter of his lawyer, Max Eastman. She was younger than my sister was in the posted photograph. Linda Eastman grew up to become a photographer and the wife of Paul McCartney.