Rooftop Reviews

"Heaven Cracks, Earth Shakes" by James Palmer

2012-02-03T00:03:00.002-05:00

I have always considered myself to have a good grasp of contemporary Chinese history; the 20th Century, from the Boxer Rebellion through Mao's Long March, has always held a fascination for me. This was a period of struggle in which China sought to throw off the yoke of colonial control and establish a unified nation. This was also the time in which China became the largest Communist nation on earth.

The years after the Communist takeover in 1949 have always been a sort of confusion for most in the West, with its attendant purges and political maneuvering. This is not to say that we are that much different. We did, after all, have our own McCarthy Era to contend with. It may not have been as brutal as the purges in China, but the whole concept of that episode was not all that much different in its aims.

The ten years which spanned 1949-1959 saw many failures in China, both in industry and agriculture. The famine of 1960-1962 still stands as one of the most terrible periods in modern Chinese history, perhaps only eclipsed by the insanity of the Cultural Revolution which began in 1966, and would last almost 10 years. Both of these events would have far reaching consequences, influencing everything from the way buildings were constructed, to the way food was harvested and distributed.

In a largely misguided effort to hold onto power, Mao Tse Tung pit one faction against the other, resulting in stagnation in every part of Chinese life. All of this added to the country's lack of preparation for the year of 1976, which would see changes, both great and tragic, in China.

Just as we in the United States were finishing our Bicentennial celebration, marking 200 years of freedom, China was being tested by both nature and politics. The year began with the death of Premier Zhou Enlai, a leader more beloved than Chairman Mao. When the people attempt to publicly mourn his passing, they are beaten back by the Gang of Four. The tide of bereavement became a tsunami of anger sweltering beneath the surface. And that anger erupted in August, when a massive earthquake shook Tangshan Province, killing a half million people.

In the aftermath, the chaos and lack of preparation of the Chinese government surfaced, exposing the differences between the elite and the poor, ordinary working Chinese people. The result was a loss of confidence in the ability of the government to take care of the people, and highlighted the need for change. This would come to mark the end of the Cultural Revolution.

By the end of the year, Chairman Mao would be dead, and the infamous Gang of Four would be on trial for crimes against the state. These trials would expose a lavish life style among the leaders of what had once been a peasant’s revolution, changing China forever, and setting her on the path to becoming a world economic power.

James Palmer has done a fine job in piecing together both the political history of China from 1949 through 1976; and an even better job at depicting the earthquake and the mass chaos that followed. Drawing on survivor memoirs as well as official government documents, he has managed to write a very reader friendly account of what has become known as China's "Unlucky Year."

There is an old Chinese proverb which states, "When Heaven cracks, the Earth shakes." In this book, the author brilliantly puts across just what that means.

"How Green Was My Valley" with Maureen O'Hara, Roddy McDowall and Donald Crisp

2012-02-02T00:05:00.004-05:00

One of the most remarkable things about this film is that it was filmed in California. Unlike John Ford's later classic, "The Quiet Man", which would be filmed on location in Ireland, this one was filmed in America due to the Second World War, which had already begun in Europe, making it almost impossible to ship the actors, equipment and technicians safely to Wales. But, with John Ford directing, magic could be created anywhere.

This is the story of a Welsh coal mining family, living outside of Cardiff at the turn of the century. The Morgan's were a coal mining family; they always had been; and it was expected that they always would be. They lived in an idyllic town with all the things that were necessary to live a decent, if not hard, life. Mr. Morgan, played by Donald Crisp, and his wife, Sara, played by Sara Allgood, have 4 sons. The youngest, Huw, is played by Roddy McDowall, whose character also serves as the narrator, looking back on his time as a child in the valley. The Morgan's also have a daughter, Angharad, played by Maureen O'Hara.

The paradise of Huw's youth is interrupted when men from another town, who are out of work, come to Huw's village looking for jobs. Taking advantage of the glut in labor on the market, the owners of the mine choose to reduce wages, prompting the men of the town to form a Union and go on strike. The elder Mr. Morgan is aghast at the prospect and even outraged when his own sons decide to take part in that effort.

When Mr. Morgan is threatened over this issue, by the very men he has worked alongside for so many years, his wife, Sara, who has learned of a secret Union meeting that night, gets Huw to take her to the place where the meeting is being held. It is winter, and a snowstorm rages as Mrs. Morgan lambasts the men as cowardly in their actions towards her husband. After venting her rage at the men she leaves, with Huw, in the midst of the storm.

As the men, who are now somewhat ashamed of themselves, make their way back to their homes, they hear a cry for help. Mrs. Morgan has fallen into the stream, with Huw holding her head above the freezing waters. The men save her, and Huw, returning them to their home. It is months before the two recover from the events of that night, with Huw having to learn to walk again.

In the middle of all of this there is also the story of the Preacher, played with acidic cruelty by Arthur Shields, one of the finest actors to ever grace the stage or screen. He is a fire and brimstone preacher, who shows his true colors when he attempts to cast out a girl from the village who is unwed and pregnant. Only the brave protestations of Mrs. Morgan and Angharad save her from being exiled for the crime of being human and falling short of "God's glory."

While the Preacher is a vengeful man, his assistant, Mr. Gruffydd, played with great sensitivity by Walter Pidgeon, is just the opposite. He is kind and understanding. He is the one who helps Huw learn to walk again after that freezing night in the stream. He brings Huw all of the classics to read, things like "Treasure Island", which transport the boy beyond his limited world and sufferings. When Huw has recovered he is able to gain entrance to a Public School, opening the way for him to go beyond the coal mines to make a living. But the boy will have none of it, instead choosing to work beside his father and brothers in the mines.

When Angharad falls in love with Mr. Gruffydd, he gently lets her down, explaining that he has given his life to God. This sets the stage for her to marry the mine owner's son, which should give her happiness, but does not fill the hole she carries in her heart for her true love.

When the price of coal drops and the mines reduce wages again, 2 of the sons leave for America, breaking their mother's heart. The movie largely resembles some of my family's own background. They were Welsh, living just outside of Cardiff, at about the same time this story takes place. Perhaps that is why this movie strikes such a chord with me.

The film is filled with the imagery and hard work which was the way of life in Wales back then. Director John Ford, using wide sweeping panoramas, as well as tight close-ups, conveys all the joy, and hardships, of an era that tested the hearts and souls of all who struggled through those times. With the added attraction of the Welsh Singers, who play themselves, along with the antics of Barry Fitzgerald as the town "sportsman", Cyfartha, this film garnered 5 Academy Awards, and 5 additional nominations. From start to finish, this is a movie that will resonate with the viewer forever.

Blue Yodel #9 - In Black and White

2012-02-01T00:04:00.004-05:00

Back in the early 1970's Johnny Cash had the most unusual variety show on television. Each week, like Ed Sullivan did on his show, he featured a popular musical act, or musician; but with one major difference; Johnny Cash was a musician and songwriter himself, and so he managed to get out there with his guest stars and perform with them. It was quite a treat for the viewer, and I suspect, for Johnny Cash as well.

This performance of Jimmie Rodgers "Blue Yodel #9" is really unusual at first glance, but when you look a bit further into the history of country music and blues, it's really not.

Here's an audio link of the original July 16th, 1930 session which Mr. Armstrong refers to in his conversation with Johnny Cash;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7rfq25JDJg

Midnight / Meow

2012-01-31T00:04:00.004-05:00

Depending on the mood, or time of day, or disposition, our resident stray cat answers to several different names. We originally named him Midnight, for obvious reasons. He seems to be a typical tom cat, preferring to roam about, as the song says, "After Midnight." At other times, when he is not busy licking himself, or rolling around on the porch, we call him Meow, which he seems to prefer.

Truth be known, he doesn't understand a word that either Sue or I say to him. He just looks up and goes "Meow", which can mean a variety of things to a cat. I think it's actually the only word in their spoken language. So, communication has not been too difficult to manage with Midnight/Meow. Until the other day, when he came home looking like this.

I'm not sure where he went the other night, but when I woke up in the morning and went to the garage to check on him - this is what he looked like! There must be a punk rock club nearby somewhere, or else this is a protective disguise that scares away all of the other animals out there at night. Even the hawk which took him on his famous, but short, flight last year, now refuses to let him board.

The spiked look didn't last too long, just about a day or so. I kind of felt like I did when my daughter was 14 and colored her hair blue. Amused, but with a twinge of embarrassment. At least I didn't have to take him to the mall! But then, when I thought it all through, I realized that it's his hair and he has the right to wear it any way he pleases. I just prefer it a natural black.

The Lilly Ledbetter Act and The Wal-Mart Discrimination Case

2012-01-30T00:06:00.006-05:00

When Doris Dukes sued Wal-Mart over unfair wages last year, and lost, something did not seem quite right with the Supreme Court's decision in the case. We all know, or should know, that American women do not have an Equal Rights Amendment. It was passed by Congress in 1973, but never ratified by the Senate. And it has largely been ignored ever since, even by women of both parties who were in a position to do something about it. I'm thinking about both Condi Rice and Hillary Clinton, who, during their respective terms as Secretary of State, travelled the world over talking about Human Rights in every country they visited. Women's Rights were also big on both of their foreign agendas. But never once have I ever heard an American woman, in a position of authority, tackle this seemingly simple issue; Equal pay for equal work.

To his credit, President Obama signed the Lilly Ledbetter Act into law in January 2009. But, much to the discredit of all those involved in writing that law, they never addressed the employers right to enforce a policy which prohibits an employee from disclosing to another employee, how much they earn for the same job. When Lilly Ledbetter sued Goodyear Tire and Rubber in 2007 this was the very issue at the heart of the matter. The Courts decision essentially told her that she and her fellow female employees had no right to compensation simply because they had learned too late about the discrimination, in other words, it was okay for Goodyear to have not made full disclosure to them about their terms of employment. That was a travesty of justice, as is the Wal-Mart case decision, in which the plaintiffs amounted to more than all of the female members of our Armed Forces, who do receive equal pay by law. Where is the consistency here?

I cannot help but wonder how the Court arrived at their logic in either case. In the Lilly Ledbetter decision it is akin to telling the victim of a crime that they have no civil recourse now, based on the fact that they didn't realize the unfairness with which they were treated at the time. It flies in the face of logic, especially at the present time, when compensation is being awarded to victims of the governments Eugenics Program, in which people were sterilized by court order. Those orders were both legally and morally wrong, and compensation, such as it is, is the correct remedy. What is the difference in the legal principle involved? I fail to see it.

These two episodes have now set the stage for corporations, such as Wal-Mart, to continue to dance about, and skirt the real problem, for years to come. In this election year, all women should be concerned about this inequity. Sadly, the majority seem to be unaware of the entire issue.

Dean Martin - Live 1964

2012-01-29T00:01:00.008-05:00

I am taking the day off; I have a sore throat, so it hurts when I type. This is a most unusual clip of Dean Martin from a 1964 TV special which I have never seen. What makes it so unusual is the slow, almost jazz-like, deliveries of the standards which Mr. Martin performs here.

"Everybody Loves Somebody", which had been previously released in this slower version in the late 1940's, was currently topping the charts, even eclipsing the Beatles in that pivotal year. So, I have to wonder why he chose to do the older arrangement. Mr. Martin initially resisted the turning of the tide towards rock n' roll, even telling his 14 year old son, Dean, "I'm gonna' knock your 'pallies' off the charts." On August 15, 1964 he did it; topping the Billboard charts for about 8 weeks with "Everybody Loves Somebody"; right in the middle of Beatlemania.

His soulful renditions of "Volare", and "On an Evening in Roma", are among his most earthy performances of those numbers. Never ceasing to clown around, and clearly a bit inebriated, he manages to slip in a reference to Jerry Lewis, as well as to kid his piano player, Ken Lane, who wrote "Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime", before closing with a short, but very bluesy rendition of "You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You".

Enjoy the show; they just don't make 'em like this anymore....

"Bimbo's Initiation" by Max Fleischer (1931)

2012-01-28T00:11:00.003-05:00

This 1931 Max Fleischer cartoon captures the dangers and humiliations of "secret" initiations, which had reached epic and dangerous proportions during the later days of the "Roaring Twenties." It's amazing to me that initiations have not been banned in today's "politically correct" environment.

This is not to say that I have not been involved in an initiation, or two, during my life. Or, that I am against such practices. No one makes you partake of the rituals involved. And peer pressure is a lame excuse. Like the old carnival barker said, "To get your ticket- you pay the price." I am, after all, a "Loyal and Trusted Shellback" - a member in good standing of the "Ancient Order of the Deep".

Shellbacks are sailors who have crossed the Equator. Until the first time you have crossed that line separating the Northern and Southern hemispheres, you are a pollywog, a snipe, a lowly bottom dweller. The initiation takes a full day under the blazing equatorial sun. Those unwilling to participate in the ritual are allowed to sit the ceremony out in some other part of the ship, where they are unable to observe the festivities. There is no pressure to join, and no penalty for not doing so. (I believe that the iniation has actually been eliminated these days - and everyone just gets their card.)

I won't bore you with the details of the initiation, although I will tell you it involves copious amounts of garbage, which the initiate is forced to crawl through, being beaten with fire hoses as you walk a gauntlet of Shellbacks, crawling across the blazing metal of the main deck, kissing the Bosun's belly, and then being anointed with lube oil by the High Priest, who in our case was the ship's Chaplain. (Note the error on line 4, which shows me as having crossed the Equator at 39 degrees and 5 minutes "M" of longitude. The "M" should be a "W" for West longitude.)

The reward for all of this? Just a bit of pride at being found acceptable, along with the pleasure of having faced something which was made out to be much worse than it actually was, and come out laughing in the end. Kind of like this cartoon.

"You Can't Always Get What You Want" by Sam Cutler

2012-01-27T00:16:00.004-05:00

In a real close-up look at the darker side of Rock and Roll, Sam Cutler, former tour manager for the Rolling Stones 1969 tour; which ended in complete disaster at Altamont Speedway in California; asks the hard questions, and provides some of the harder answers to the "how's and why's" behind the disastrous killing of a gun wielding young black man at the hands of the Hell's Angels in December 1969. The resulting furor over the killing, coupled with the trial of Sonny Barger, heralded the end of the Woodstock Nation, which had been born only 4 months earlier in upstate New York.

Mr. Cutler examines the differences, and egos, which formed the disaster, and then simply vanished, leaving him to face the legal issues. With a keen eye for detail, and just enough sex and drugs thrown in to make it interesting, he has covered all the bases, from the security concerns to ticket scalping. The madness of touring with the Stones is apparent in the whirlwind pace of the author's writing.

Also, there is an added bonus for those who did not know, or like me, were unaware of Mr. Cutler's connection to the Grateful Dead. He became, on the strength of their connection through the Altamont Speedway concert, at which the Dead never played, tour manager for the Grateful Dead for decades to come. His accounts of Jerry Garcia, and what the man was really like, are very revealing, and will definitely be of interest to his fans. Although not a huge Dead fan myself, the business end of the Grateful Dead empire was really a fascinating thing to watch grow. It simply happened, which is, of course what that band is all about. Happening.

A great quick read for fans of either band, and illustrated just enough to make it interesting, this is one memoir which will not disappoint the reader.

Anton Karas - "The Third Man Theme"

2012-01-26T00:02:00.003-05:00

I was looking to download the audio from the 78 RPM recording of "The Third Man Theme", from the movie of the same name, when I ran into this on the first shot. It runs about 1 minute longer than the commercially recorded version, but that's just a bonus as far as I'm concerned.

Not only does this song represent one of my favorite movies, it also reminds me of how I felt the first time I heard this record. And I heard it long before I saw the movie. My Mom and Dad had a lot of records. This was one of them; I can still see the blue label spinning at 78 RPM's and I remember the day my brother, or I, broke it.

Watching this little film of Mr. Karas playing sent me to Wikipedia, where I found the following information about him. He was always somewhat more of a mystery to me than "The Third Man" film itself, so I don't want to know too much about him. It would take away from the exotic sound of his zither playing, perhaps forever altering the way I view the film! I can't take that chance. So, I'll stick to basics.

He was born in Vienna of Hungarian and Czechoslovakian background and had 4 siblings.His father was a factory worker. Anton, his two brothers and sisters, all learned to play music, in spite of their relative poverty. At age 12 Anton found a zither in his grandmother's attic, and learned to play that. Through this humble beginning a legendary piece of music would someday emerge.

He began his apprenticeship as a tool and die maker at age of 14, but never stopped taking music lessons. From 1924 until 1925 he worked in a car factory, but economic conditions soon put an end to that, which drove him back to the University, and a career which would eventually lead to "The Third Man Theme."

From 1939–1945 he was employed by the Nazi's German Wehrmacht, working in anti-aircraft warfare, for a while stationed in Russia. But he never left his zither behind, taking it with him when he went to war. He reportedly went through several zithers during this period.

In 1948 Carol Reed was in Vienna to shoot "The Third Man" and after hearing Karas play at a cafe, he commissioned him to do the title track for the film. This was Karas' first attempt at composing music on his own. He went to London, living with Reed while writing the score. He hated every minute of it.

The success of the film score made Mr. Karas well off and he didn't do too much in the way of touring, beyond a few Command Performances for Royalty around Europe. But again, I don't want to know too much about the man. His fingers are more than capable of communicating all that I ever really need to know.

"Berlin-1961" by Frederick Kempe (2011)

2012-01-25T00:01:00.005-05:00

I have always been fascinated by the Cold War. Particularly, I have always had a deep and abiding interest in Berlin at the time this book takes place. I was 7 years old when the TV show I was watching was interrupted with the news that the Soviet Union had closed the border with West Germany. Although I did not fully understand the implications at the time, the episode itself would remain with me until this very day.

In June 1961 President Kennedy met with Premier Khrushchev in Vienna for a summit. The items on the agenda ranged from the failed U2 flight of Gary Powers the year before, and the Bay of Pigs episode; both of which had been planned under the Eisenhower administration; to the major issue concerning the division of East and West Berlin. There was a "brain drain" occurring at the time, with thousands of East Germans simply crossing the street to West Germany, and never returning. The right of Freedom of Access was the issue most important to the Communists, who were seeking to revoke this right, and they were adamant in their position on it. The loss of their best technicians was to come to a halt, even if it meant war.

After the beating that President Kennedy took at the Summit in June, he was hard pressed to make the Soviet leader understand that the United States was willing to risk a confrontation over the issue of access, which was clearly a violation of the earlier 1945 agreement on that very issue. At the time there were people living in Communist East Germany who simply crossed the street to work at jobs, or owned businesses in West Germany. These people lived right on the border, taking advantage of the difference in the value of the respective currencies.

By August of 1961, all plans had been laid to separate the city of Berlin. By carefully ordering supplies of barbed wired and concrete pillars, the East Germans were able to stockpile these items at strategically located points for use in creating a temporary barrier at the appointed time. That time came in the early morning hours of August 13th, 1961 when the East German Police, along with the Army, encircled the city in the dark of night. The residents of East Berlin, who had gone to bed with free access to relatives and work in the West, would awaken to a cordon of barbed wire, reinforced by German Police and thousands of factory workers who had been mobilized to back up those Police. Behind those factory workers were Soviet tanks.

The author neglects nothing, covering East German soldier Hans Conrad Schumann’s iconic leap over the barbed wire to freedom, as well as the East German women whose homes opened onto West German alleys: allowing some to lower themselves to freedom by sheets; this book is a gripping account of one of the most impressionable events of my childhood.

The author also does an incredible job of making the chess like game of nuclear brinkmanship come to life, rather than providing only boring facts and dates. By using the quotes, and written accounts of the events, ranging from the preparations for the summit, all the way through the crisis engendered by Ambassador Lightner’s attempt to attend the ballet in the Eastern sector in October, prompting the most famous, and dangerous incident at Checkpoint Charlie, Mr. Kempe has taken a journey back in time, placing the reader right on the forefront of the Cold War at its height.

On Display - Cundo Bermudez

2012-01-24T00:04:00.004-05:00

Sue and I went to a display of some of the works of Cundo Bermudez (1914-2008) at the Charlotte Country Day School's Hance Fine Arts Center the other day. The Center is located at 1440 Carmel Road, just south of Fairview Road. Plenty of signs and parking made the trip very pleasant.

Cundo Bermudez is the Cuban Modernist Painter who fled Cuba in 1967. His exposure to Mexican art in the late 1930's, when he traveled to Mexico, along with his subsequent exposure to some of the finest European painters, such as Matisse, Picasso, and Rousseau give all his work a unique touch, blending colors and lines into images that are at once reminiscent of Mayan art, while at the same time evoking a more modern Cubist flavor. Add to this the fact that he worked right until his death at age 94, and you can easily see how he was such an influence within his genre. Some of his latest works are among his best, with a relevancy that defied his age. He was, to coin a pun, an artist who would not allow himself to be painted into a corner.

The exhibit is a product of the generosity of Isaac and Sonia Luski, who fled Castro's Cuba in 1960, taking only 4 suitcases of clothing with them. On the way to the airport they stopped at the gallery of Renee Portocarrero and purchased 2 of his pieces. They wanted to take something of Cuba with them to their new country.

Over the years Mr. and Mrs. Luski have acquired more than 50 pieces of Cuban art, which they generously share with the public. In the words of Mr. Luski himself, "We collect art because we love it. We give it away because we like to share it." That's quite a statement.

Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Luski , along with Charlotte Country Day School, for brightening a grey January afternoon with your generosity. It is people, and institutions, such as yourselves, who keep the world turning, allowing us to always expect a brighter tomorrow with each new dawn.

"Goin' to Town" with Mae West (1935)

2012-01-23T00:03:00.006-05:00

This is the closing scene from my new favorite Mae West film, "Goin' to Town", which was released in 1935. She plays the widowed wife of a rancher who falls for an English aristocrat. With a lack of what she thinks of as "class", she despairs of ever winning his love. But have no fear, the irrepressible Ms. West, just like the Royal Canadian Mounties, always gets her man.

This film contains 2 really good numbers. I especially liked the blues format of "Now I'm a Lady". As a matter of fact, I liked it so much that I converted it to MP.3 and it now plays in my car, somewhere between "James Brown Live at the Apollo", and Jason Mranz doing "Life Is Wonderful."

I thought I had seen all the Mae West movies, but apparently I missed this one. What makes it so unique is that it opens in a town that is purely 19th Century, and it's not until the first automobile appears, about 15 minutes into the film, that you realize this is a contemporary movie. It takes place in 1934, as evidenced by the close-up of the datebook page in one of the scenes. Also, the airplane trip to Argentina is kind of a giveaway.

There’s lots of fun in this movie, with Ms. West at her best, singing and vamping her way across 2 continents in search of class, and finding true love in the bargain.

"The Iron Lady" with Meryl Streep and Jim Broadbrent

2012-01-22T00:04:00.007-05:00

Sue and I went to see "The Iron Lady" yesterday. We're both fans of Ms. Streep's vast array of characters, and so off we went to see this much acclaimed, and also controversial, film. I'm glad that we did.

First off all, I have to dispel any pre-conceived notions that this is a film with a political agenda. Rather, it is the portrait of a once great woman, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, in her later years, living in two worlds; the one of the here and now; along with the frequent recollections of whom and what she had been. In many ways this film was similar to what Ronald Reagan's final years must have been like, prior to the onset of his Alzheimer's disease.

As well as being a fairly accurate portrayal of Ms. Thatcher’s life as Prime Minister, the film also traces her beginnings as the daughter of a local councilman in World War Two England. Her father was also the village grocer, giving her the humble, yet determined roots, which would serve her so well as the first freely elected woman leader in the Western World. Indeed, it is much easier to understand her close working relationship with Ronald Reagan in this context.

As Mrs. Thatcher gets older and her husband has passed away, those about her seem to think that she has lost her hold on reality. She is haunted by the presence of her deceased husband Denis, played with wonderful charm by Jim Broadbent, and seems reluctant to let him go. His presence, and later spirit, have always guided her and helped to keep her grounded in her principles. In short, the film is also about a marriage, as much as it is about history, or her rise from a grocer's daughter to one of the most powerful women in the world.

As with Ronald Reagan, whether you liked her, or not, you cannot help but hold in admiration the pure grit which it took, not only to arrive at the top, but to get there with her principles intact.

With remarkable performances by all, especially Mr. Broadbent, along with seamlessly directed flashbacks by Phyllida Lloyd, this a film is well worth the time to view. I need not mention the already much acclaimed make up by J. Roy Helland; is all it claims to be. And, with a screenplay by Abi Morgan, this is a very well made film.

A notable quote from the film by Ms. Thatcher; “Watch your thoughts for they become words. Watch your words for they become actions. Watch your actions for they become... habits. Watch your habits, for they become your character. And watch your character, for it becomes your destiny! What we think we become.”

"All's Fair at the Fair" by Max Fleischer (1938)

2012-01-21T00:28:00.005-05:00

I'm considering posting an old classic cartoon each Saturday. The response to the Christmas related cartoons I posted was very positive, so I'm thinking of doing this regularly. It really serves two purposes; I get a day off, and the grandkids can enjoy some of the things I watched as a kid. If nothing else, it will at least expose them to the unique quality of these old classics.

This cartoon was released just in time for the World's Fair in 1939, which was held in Flushing, New York. That same site was later used for the World's Fair in 1964-65. Also of interest is that this is another solo effort on the part of Max Fleischer, who along with his brother Dave, produced the oldest, and still the best, of the Popeye features during the 1930's. Enjoy the cartoon; it's a nice break from reality; while I think of something to post tomorrow!

Jackie "Moms" Mabley - "Killer Diller" (1948)

2012-01-20T00:08:00.006-05:00

I was originally intending to do a short piece about Jackie "Moms" Mabley, the iconic African-American comedienne. I thought that I was going to post a short bio about her along with some memories of watching her on The Merv Griffin Show when I was about 11. She was frequent guest on the show, which aired on WNEW-TV in New York City. That was Channel 5, a part of the Metromedia network, which eventually became Fox.

But I was surprised at the lack of You Tube videos from the Merv Griffin Show with Jackie "Moms" Mabley, who often performed with Redd Fox. She was, after all is said and done, the African-American version of Minnie Pearl, the disheveled comedienne of the Grand Ol' Opry. But good news often follows bad, and I ran across this full length movie with "Moms" Mabley, as well as the King Cole Trio, Butterfly McQueen and a host of African-American acts from the late 1940's. It runs about an hour and a quarter, and it's a fun movie to watch.

Here's a brief recap of "Moms" life story as outlined in Wikipedia. She was born in Brevard, North Carolina in 1894. This was a big surprise to me, as I had always thought she was from the Deep South, somewhere like Mississippi, and also much older.

Her father was a mulatto who ran a General Store, and her mother, who ran a boardinghouse, was recorded as being able to read and write in the 1870 Census. This was only 5 years after the end of the Civil War, so it is surmised that she was either a house servant, or a free woman of color. Again, this was a surprise to me. I had always assumed that her parents were slaves.

By the age of fifteen years old, Jackie, her given name, had been raped twice, giving birth to 2 children who were both given up for adoption. Against her father's wishes, she took off for Cleveland, Ohio where she secured work in a traveling minstrel show as a singer and dancer.

Her stage name, Jackie Mabley, was apparently taken from an early boyfriend, and she was quoted in an Ebony Magazine interview, 5 years before her death in 1975 "that he'd taken so much from me, it was the least I could do to take his name." She became known as "Moms" because she was like a mother to many of the younger comedians playing the "Chitlin' Circuit" during the late 1940's through the early 60's. I knew that.

At 27 years old she declared herself to be a Lesbian, becoming one of the first female entertainers to do so, black or white. In short, she was quite ahead of her time. Since comedy, especially "Mom's", is often rooted in the changes to society at the time in which it is performed, it can be interesting to listen to her acts now, if only to see how little has changed over the years. Minor improvements aside, we are much the same in 2012, as we were back then. I think it’s called human nature.

Here's a link to some of her unique comedy, which influenced performers such as Bill Cosby, as well as Richard Pryor. As a matter of fact, if you listen to some of their old records you will hear them doing some of her jokes. The only difference is the addition of some cursing on the part of Richard Pryor, which may add a bit of spice to the performance, but adds nothing to the jokes themselves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaStMww636A&feature=related

"Dean Spanley" with Peter O'Toole, Sam Neill and Bryan Brown (2008)

2012-01-19T00:01:00.006-05:00

Peter O'Toole may have outdone even himself in this richly textured tale set in the early days of 20th Century England. Fisk, Sr. has lost his son in the Boer War and has never grieved that loss. His wife has died of a broken heart and he lives alone with the widowed housekeeper. He is a reticent and stern sort of man, strictly adhering to a schedule. His reaction to those who lament his loss is usually along the lines of, "My loss? I haven't lost anything. It was my son that died. I'm still here."

His younger son, Fisk, Jr., played by Jeremy Northham, visits punctually and regularly, but there is clearly no love lost between the two. They simply do not understand one another. When Fisk, Jr. takes his father to a lecture on the Transmigration of Souls, his father declares it all to be "poppycock." It is at this lecture that the elder Mr. Fisk, along with his son, meets Reverend Spanley, played with great sensitivity by Sam Neill, who is studying the subject of reincarnation. He seems to be in earnest to learn all he can about the subject, which only serves to pique the younger Mr. Fisks curiosity.

When leaving the lecture, Fisk, Jr. encounters Wrather, played by Bryan Brown, a man known to be a conveyer, that is, someone who can get things which are hard to come by. In this case, the younger Mr. Fisk wants a bottle of Hungarian Tokay, a wine formerly reserved for Kings. With this bottle he begins to befriend the Reverend, unlocking the secrets of his past life.

At subsequent Thursday night meetings, always with a rare bottle of Tokay, the Reverend begins to open up and reveals that he was a dog in a past life. When the younger Mr. Fisk reveals this to the conveyor, the man is transfixed and manages to become a part of these Thursday night meetings. Eventually, the elder Mr. Fisk joins them, just in time for the Reverend to reveal his entire story, which has a great effect upon the elder Mr. Fisk.

Retreating from the dinner table he is found weeping in the hallway by the housekeeper. The Reverend's experiences have somehow made it possible for him to feel once again.

This movie is almost impossible to review with any kind of justice. It is remarkably filmed, scripted, directed and performed. I will need to return to this film again in order to fully understand the meaning of the story as it concerns each character, since they, like we ourselves, are all connected in some way. In this first viewing I have remained focused on Peter O'Toole's character.

Mr. O'Toole has made many a film, some of them have been brilliant, and some have been disappointing. But none have called forth the depth of acting required of the role he plays here.

With a fascinating story by Lord Dunsany, written for the screen by Alan Sharp, and brilliantly directed by Toa Fraser, this film was a wonderful surprise with a meaningful message.

"The Great Give Away" by Ruth Marcus Williams

2012-01-18T00:03:00.004-05:00

The following story was written by my mother and published in The Jewish Daily Forward on January 18th, 1981. While going through some old papers last night I noticed the date for the first time. I have always suspected that, if my Mom were alive today, she would have a blog of her own. I rarely look through the batch of papers I happened upon last night, and so I can't help but wonder about the timely coincidence of finding it on the eve of the date on which it was first published. The Old Clothes Men are long gone now. We still had them in the 1950's when I was growing up, but that's a part of my story. This one is my Mom's;

When I was growing up in Brooklyn in the forties, old clothes men were a common sight, standing under windows and in alleys, shouting “I cash clothes,” in a wailing voice I can still hear. To my Grandfather, haggling with the old clothes man was a sport he mastered and indulged in with a passion resembling an opera.

I was 12 years old when my Grandfather, the old clothes man and I became emeshed in a drama I refer to as “The Great Give Away”, and like many dramas, this one began on a note of hysteria. Mine.

One day I entered my mother’s room and asked her in desperation where my coat was.

“It’s in the closet, where it belongs,” my mother said.

“No, it isn’t,” I said. “Why is it that things are always disappearing around here? Especially mine?”

“Stop being a Sarah Bernhardt. Nothing’s disappearing around here except the things you misplace. If you look hard enough you’ll find it.”

“I’ve already looked hard,” I whined, “but it’s not here.”

I adored the coat in question because it reversed from a wool herringbone tweed on one side to a beige poplin raincoat on the other. I never expected to own another one as beautiful, or as unusual.

“You’re so careless that you probably left it at a friend’s house,” my mother said. “If not, then it’s here. Just keep looking for it. I’m sure you’ll find it by the time I get back.”

I was annoyed with my mother for thinking me careless. Nonetheless, I took her advice, and as soon as she left I resumed my quest. While doing so, my grandfather arrived with an old man. The two of them, conducting a heated conversation half in Yiddish and half in English, barely glanced at me.

Some minutes later (after I had once again searched the closets in vain), it dawned on me that the one closet I hadn’t searched was my brother’s. And so, with high hopes, I entered his room. There, my grandfather was showing the old man my brother’s windbreaker.

“So, how do you like this?” my Grandfather asked the old man.

“It’s dreck,” the old man said, waving his hand in dismissal.

“Dreck!” my grandfather said in a fury. “The jacket’s almost brand new!”

“Humph, your eyes are getting worse every time I see you. The jacket’s old.”

“Phooey,” my Grandfather spat out. “It’s your eyes that can’t see. A garment like this is worth at least four dollars.”

“Look at the seams,” the old man said, tugging at them, “they’re splitting. The jacket’s not worth more than a dollar fifty.”

“You don’t know shmatas, you don’t know a treasure when you see one,” my Grandfather said indignantly.

The old man ignored him. “I shouldn’t give you more than a dollar fifty. I just noticed that the elbows are worn. But, I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll give you a dollar seventy -five.”

“I’ll throw it in the gutter first,” replied my Grandfather.

“Two dollars,” the old man said.

“Two fifty,” my Grandfather continued.

“Two twenty-five. Not one penny more,” the old man said.

“I’ll take it,” my Grandfather said. “But you’re a thief!”

As the old man started giving my Grandfather the money, I said, “Grandpa, you can’t sell Walter’s jacket! He needs it.”

“No he doesn’t. It’s old,” was his reply.

“Grandpa, you know that’s not true.” Then, realizing something else, I said, “You sold my coat, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know anything about your coat. And why aren’t you outside playing? A beautiful day like today you shouldn’t be in the house.”

Tuning him out, I said, “Mister, did you buy a girls coat from my grandfather?” The old man became agitated and replied in a torrent of Yiddish I scarcely understood. In counterpoint to his outburst, my Grandfather kept telling me that he hadn’t sold my coat. Meanwhile, in the midst of the commotion, the old man opened a sack that had been strapped to his back and began adding the jacket to it.

“Mister, would you please give me back the jacket?” I said.

“Thief,” my grandfather shouted, “you didn’t give me my money!”

“Grandpa, I told you, you can’t sell the jacket.” Then, turning to the old man I said, “Mister, the jacket’s not for sale. I want it back.”

“Here,” he said, tossing it to me. “And as for you,” he said to my Grandfather,“ I don’t want any more business from you!”

"Don’t worry,” my grandfather said. “I don’t give my business to thieves!”

A few weeks later, contradicting themselves, they were once again dickering. But I never found my coat. Until this day, whenever I see pictures of myself wearing it, I sigh with longing. And although my grandfather always denied selling it, I know better.

"American Desperado" by Jon Roberts and Evan Wright

2012-01-17T09:10:00.008-05:00

The very last thing which I expected when I began to read this book were lessons in morality. If this were an Inspirational Book it would not have caught me off guard in the way it did. This is, after all, the memoirs of a self-described very "evil" man. Jon Roberts learned long ago, from his father, that Evil is stronger than Good. And he took that lesson to heart as he robbed, killed and schemed his way through life, first in the streets, then in the jails, to Vietnam and then back to the streets.

Born Jon Riccobono, the son of a New York wise guy, Mr. Roberts had many opportunities to observe the evil in his father. When he was only 8 years old he witnessed his father shooting a man because he wouldn't back down off a one lane bridge. This incident sets the stage for the life Mr. Roberts would go on to lead.

The author has set the book up in an unusual way; it's almost a conversation. Mr. Wright asks a question, and Mr. Roberts tells a story in answer, often branching out into new areas. The book has a fluidity to it which makes it a very quick read at about 500 pages. Literally, the reader can turn to any page in this book and begin reading. The stories stand on their own, as well as being a part of a larger picture.

There are so many stories in this book, from robbing local drug dealers as a kid, to setting up his own drug operations, and eventually becoming a killer. The story takes the reader from Mr. Roberts’ beginnings in New York, to Vietnam, where he served in a LLRP unit, and then to Florida in the 1970's, just before the cocaine trade hit big time.

Eventually Mr. Roberts becomes involved in that cocaine trade, dodging the bullets of his rivals, as well as those of the American government. Only a secret deal with the CIA keeps Mr. Roberts from eventually paying the full price for all of the illegal things he has done.

To his credit, the author has no illusions about the "evil" things he has done. His beliefs concerning God and Satan are plainly expressed. This is no shallow, bullet headed mobster. This guy has his own set of morals, and is very adept at explaining them.

Extensively annotated with footnotes, this book throws a light on the failure of the drug war, and also explores just what it is that we seem to love about "gangsters." When Mr. Roberts, at the opening of the book, is introduced as the "Cocaine Cowboy" during a break in the game at Miami's American Airlines Arena, the place goes nuts! You would expect that the team had just won the championship.

A very engaging book which mirrors the society we live in, this book, with the careful guidance of the co-author, is at once a great story about mobsters and what they do; as well as a compelling look at ourselves and the human weaknesses which allow those mobsters to reign over a criminal empire; at times with the protection of our own government.

"Salesman" - A Film by David and Albert Maysles and Charlotte Zweria (1968)

2012-01-16T00:04:00.005-05:00

This 1968 film, starring 4 real life salesmen, centers on the struggles of two members of the group, Paul Brennan and Charles McDevitt, as they target the poorer working class Catholic neighborhoods of Boston, and parts of Florida, door to door in 1967. They are trying to sell high end, expensive Bibles to working class families. The film is a combination of Arthur Miller’s “Death of a Salesman” and David Mamet’s “Glengary Glen Ross.”

There were no cell phones or laptops in 1967, when the film was shot, and beepers were still several years away for the average man. The film begins in the dead of winter in Boston. When sales plummet the team is called into the main office and given a verbal lashing, much as in the David Mamet film "Glengarry Glen Ross." Using a combination of the "carrot and the stick", the sales manager alternately praises and abuses the team, all in a vain attempt to increase sales.

From Boston, the group journeys to Miami, where they target the limited Catholic neighborhoods in an overwhelmingly Baptist state. The coffee shops where the men eat, the cheap motel rooms where they stay, are all part of the film, which at times serves as a detailed look back into the 1960's.

Paul's meltdown, mirroring those of Willy Lohman and Shelley Levene, the fictional salesmen in the two films mentioned earlier, is a sad thing to watch, as it is played out in real time. The only difference between those two fictional characters and Paul, is that Paul is a real person, as is his meltdown. It's not staged, it's not imagined. It's live. When you see this film you will understand those other two films so much more.

The film ends in a climactic way as Paul packs up to leave after experiencing a very bad sales period. While sitting on the motel bed, reminiscing about his days as an Irish kid in Boston, he laments that he could have done as his brother Charlie did, and been a cop, or like his sister Mary, worked for the phone company. If he had, he would be retiring by now, just like them. In other words, like Marlon Brando in "On the Waterfront", he "could ‘a been somebody."

A very poignant film, made all the more interesting by the technology of 1966, this documentary underscores that, although in some ways it's a different world now, in other ways; as with the difference between success and failure; some things never change.

Martin Luther King and Malcolm X

2012-01-15T00:34:00.006-05:00

Today is Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday. It will be celebrated tomorrow with school closings and a bank holiday. I have always wondered how Martin Luther King would have felt about that. Originally I had planned on running the iconic "I Have A Dream" speech to commemorate the day.

But then I started listening to some of his other speeches, some of which I remember from when they were given. I finally chose the one above to illustrate the point that, in spite of Martin Luther King's rhetoric, he was not that far from the beliefs of Malcolm X, who is often perceived to be the antithesis to Mr. King concerning the methods necessary to bring about a change in Civil Rights. They were closer than you might think, or have been taught.

Martin Luther King has gone down in history as the non-violent leader of the Civil Rights Era, while Malcolm X has secured his place in history, based only upon his early beliefs in the violent overthrow of "whitey". This is a simplistic and uninformed view of both men.

While Mr. King is known for his non-violence, he is often short changed when it comes to acknowledging the demands he made from his own people, just as Malcolm X did. Both men wanted equal treatment of the races. Both wanted to be respected as human beings. The difference was in their individual styles, and approaches, to the issue.

Martin Luther King wanted to be given equal rights, as if it was within the Provence of the State to do so. Malcolm X took these rights as God given, and was not about to beg for them.

But things change, and as Martin Luther King grew more frustrated with the slow pace of the movement, Malcolm X was growing spiritually. Returning from a pilgrimage to Mecca, Malcolm saw that he, along with thousands of other so-called Black Muslims, had been sold a false bill of goods by their leader Elijah Mohammed, the titular head of the Black Muslim movement. When Malcolm came back from Mecca he broke with that movement and began a church of his own, based upon his experiences in Mecca, which had given him intellectual growth. He began to understand that black separatism was not the answer.

Meanwhile, in a subtle reversal of roles, Martin Luther King had become angrier, and more politically active concerning the War in Vietnam, which he felt was being fought with a disproportionate number of young black men being drafted. In other words, he was becoming more polarized.

Malcolm, on the other hand, had been to Mecca, and for the first time he had seen Muslims of all colors. This experience softened his stance on the separation of the races, making him believe, for the first time, that only an unfettered dialogue on race could bridge the divide.

So, in essence, over a period of about 10 years, both sides began to see, and understand, the other side of the argument concerning racial disparity in America.

I hope that you will take the time today to listen to both of these video clips from You Tube. Listen carefully, beyond the catch phrases, and you will see that both of these extraordinary men basically stood for the same things; Dignity, Justice and Equality for all people.

The Matchbox Fleet

2012-01-14T00:10:00.003-05:00

The following was forwarded by Edward Rothbacker, a crewmember who served on the USS Milwaukee a few years before I did. Ed is also the driving force behind Pianos for Patriots, a group which provides free music lessons for the children of soldiers currently deployed. You may contact him at;

https://www.facebook.com/Piano4Patriots

The Matchbox Fleet

79-year-old Phil Warren from the UK spent 62 years to build this incredible fleet of 432 ships. All vessels are built entirely of matchsticks and boxes of wooden matches. The collection includes nearly 370 American and 60 British ships.

Although now 79 years of age, he began creating his first boat in 1948, when he was only 17. He uses a razor blade, tweezers and sandpaper to carve the pieces and boxes, then assembles them with balsa wood glue. In total more than 650,000 matchsticks are used to create an amazing collection of 1:300 scale models. He has even added 1,200 aircraft, which give an even more realistic appearance to the decks of the aircraft carriers.

The Fleet Is In.

The Subs are running a screening pattern.

And all of the aircrft are ready for launch.

Here is the Admiral reviewing the fleet.

And this is Mr. Warren at work on one his ships.

"The Blue Hotel" by Stephen Crane with James Keach and David Warner

2012-01-13T00:04:00.006-05:00

This was the first time I have seen this remarkable film from Jan Kadar. It was first released in 1977 and then again in 1984 as a PBS special. Set in the last days of the American frontier, the story takes place in the parlor of the Blue Hotel, located in the small town of Fort Romper, against the backdrop of an impending blizzard.

Three men get off the train for an overnight stay in the hotel. Almost immediately the viewer is aware that one of the men is not quite right. The character known as "Swede", played by David Warner, is angry, apprehensive and almost expectant of trouble. He announces that "many men have died in this room", a charge vehemently denied by the owner. The Swede then further declares that he too will be killed that night, in that very room. Thinking him mad, the owner, Scully, does all he can to placate the Swede, mostly to no avail.

The owner's son, Johnnie, played by James Keach, is caught cheating at cards in a game with the Swede. The two then go outside, in the blizzard, to fight it out. The other guests, who have by now taken a dislike to the Swede, are all there to cheer on the owner's son. Initially, as he is beating the Swede, the other guests are crying out for the younger man to "Kill him, kill him!" They are sorely disappointed when the Swede nearly beats the younger man to death.

When everyone adjourns back into the hotel, the Swede decides to check out. When the owner refuses to accept any payment from the Swede a new argument is born. Just as that argument is escalating, a stranger enters the hotel seeking shelter. The Swede begins to pick on him, demanding that he listen to his story. The man refuses and the Swede puts his hands on him. The man asks him to remove his hand from his shoulder, and when the Swede does not, the man swiftly stabs him to death with one thrust. He then turns his knife over to the proprietor and asks to be awoken when the sheriff arrives in the morning.

Who is responsible for the death of the Swede? Was it the Swede himself? Had he read too many dime store novels about what to expect out west? Was he fulfilling a self-perpetuating fantasy? Or was it the intolerance of the other guests, and the hotel owner, for not understanding the strain the Swede was under? Thinking he was about to be killed could not have been easy to live with. But that only begs the question of why he would go someplace to experience what he fears the most?

In the end, director Jan Kadar has left us with a stunning visual adaptation of the Stephen Crane story. 130 years removed from the action portrayed in this film, these questions of intolerance still remain unanswered.

The Doors - "Live In New York"

2012-01-12T10:07:00.010-05:00

The following review was posted on another blog two years ago. I'm a little under the weather today and need a day off, so I'm posting it here for the first time. The album was released in March 2010 and sparked some musical memories from my early teens. See you tomorrow!

My first run in with the music of The Doors came, unsurprisingly, through my transistor radio. It was alternately to be found either in my hand, held next to my ear, or in the spring and summer, strapped to the center of my bicycle handlebars.

One day, while delivering The New York Post, the transistor took on a life of its own. I had never heard a sound that imbedded itself so deeply and so quickly into my imagination. It was, I learned later, the insistent organ playing of Ray Manzerak backing the lead vocalist, Jim Morrison, on the new single “Light My Fire.” This recording would skyrocket up the charts to Number One, where it would remain for many weeks.

The record is a notable one in that it served as a ground breaker for future artists and releases to pass the 3 minutes and some odd seconds that comprised the world of Pop Music and AM radio formats at the time. The full version of “Light My Fire” ran over 11 minutes. It was originally pared down to 3 minutes or so before all the phone calls started pouring in to the radio stations. The listeners who had the album wanted to hear the full version. In various cities the song was trimmed according to the audience and the advertisers. Even in New York we only got about 7 minutes on AM. But this was the moment when the format was about to change.

Within a year of “Light My Fire” being released we had “MacArthur Park” written by Jimmy Webb and performed by Richard Harris. It was well over 7 minutes in length and remained at the top of the charts all summer. It is a signature song from a signature year. This influence did not go unnoticed by The Beatles who released “Hey Jude” in September of 1968. It was also over 7 minutes long.

The only Pop song I can think of that ran longer than 4 minutes prior to “Light My Fire” is “A Quick One” by The Who, which was the precursor to the rock opera “Tommy.”

The Doors went on to record a string of Pop hits, including “Wishful, Sinful”, “People Are Strange” and some longer tracks such as “When the Music’s Over.” The bands signature number “The End” later became the opening music for the film “Apocalypse Now.”

Originally blues based The Doors became caught up in the whirlwind of pop stardom. The constant pressure to have hit after hit and the rigors of life on the road put the group into a kind of rut. It’s hard to be creative when you’re racing from studio to plane to show after show. It’s even harder to retain sight of what you were originally trying to be.

And so it went with The Doors. They left us quite a bit of Pop hits and some classic stuff like “The End” but may have never left the Blues imprint that they desired to at the beginning.

The current release of “Live In New York” - a 6 CD boxed set recorded 18 months before Jim Morrison’s death in 1971 showcases the bands attempt to achieve this goal. In a series of shows at The Felt Forum the band performs blues standards by legendary bluesmen such as Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker and Howlin’ Wolf. Interspersed with these luminary songs are some of The Doors greatest hits, “Whiskey Bar”, “When the Music’s Over” , “Roadhouse Blues” and of course “Light My Fire.” Also of interest is the banter between Mr. Morrison and the audience.

Great sound for what was probably only an 8 track live recording. And I don’t know whether this will be received by some as a compliment or not, but in the final analysis, “Little Red Rooster” and all the other blues numbers sound like The Doors playing the blues. You can take this 2 ways- either they weren’t that great at the blues or that their unique sound simply overshadowed whatever they were likely to perform. I prefer the latter.

An interesting album from one of the era’s most influential bands, it’s worth a listen.

"Annabel Lee" by E.A.Poe as performed by Sarah Jarosz

2012-01-11T00:03:00.005-05:00

Yesterday's newspaper brought word of this 20 year old acoustic musician to my attention. Sarah Jarosz is making herself heard, and known, as a fine musician and performer. This evening will mark her first appearance in Charlotte at one of my favorite venues, Neighborhood Theatre. Having not heard of this remarkable young woman before I went to You Tube and found several very nice arrangements of some well-known songs and ballads. But of all the songs I listened to, this is the one that got me.

Annabel Lee, which seems to be spelled several different ways, depending on where you look, (I have used the spelling from the 1940 Washington Square Press edition of "Great Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe") is one of my favorite poems by Poe, and is probably the first one of his works I ever heard. It has that "sing-song" type of cadence to it which makes it perfect for the second grade, which is where I first heard it. That was 50 years ago.(Thanks, Mrs. Sanders!) But Ms. Jarosz has given it a new and unique quality. Her arrangement actually adds to the drama and mystique of the poem. It was an unexpected treat.

Ms. Jarosz, who is not yet 21, has already performed with Bela Fleck, Shawn Colvin and Vince Gill. That’s quite impressive for someone of her age. Keep your eye on her as her career continues to rise. She covers everyone from Edgar Allan Poe to Tom Waits, as well as writing some of her own compositions. For more information about this Ms. Jarosz, including booking info, use this link;

http://sarahjarosz.com/

"Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

"Midnight Rising" by Tony Horwitz

2012-01-10T00:34:00.007-05:00

The best way to begin a review of this book is to quote, as the author has at the beginning of Chapter 3, from Henry David Thoreau, who, in remarks contained in his "A Plea for Captain Brown", said that "He (John Brown) could not have been tried by a jury of his peers, because his peers did not exist." After reading this account of John Brown and his remarkable life, I could not agree more.

Most of us were taught a very simplistic version of the John Brown saga, almost all of what many of us know is contained in the lyrics of that famous song, "John Brown's Body". But there is so much more to the life of this man. He was, at times, what we would today call a manic-depressive. Indeed, some of his family members had been confined to asylums, and some had even committed suicide. Many people, even after a visit to Harper's Ferry, come away with the impression that John Brown was killed that day in October of 1859 when he stormed the Federal Armory there. He was wounded, and lived to face trial for treason, murder and inciting rebellion. He was found guilty within 2 weeks of the crimes for which he was accused. In that time he had 5 different lawyers.

Although mental problems ran in his family, John Brown was considered to be merely a fanatic, with views of grandiosity. In that sense, he was not legally insane. He had none of the hallucinations, or other problems which met the criteria for Virginia to judge him "non compos, or deranged", thus enabling him to avoid a trial for his crimes. He was found guilty and promptly hung.

This book gives the reader a fascinating look at the final year and a half leading to the Civil War. With such characters as Robert E. Lee, then a Union Colonel in charge of putting down the insurrection at Harper's Ferry, and Governor Wise, the author is able to paint a clear and unvarnished picture of one of the most compelling adventures to come out of the Abolitionist Movement.

In the aftermath of the attack, while he lay bleeding, and possibly dying from wounds received during the brief skirmish, John Brown, in great pain, parried with his interrogators, sparring with them, most times to a draw. Governor Wise proclaimed him "the gamest man I have ever met." Senator Mason, who was also present in the immediate aftermath of the fight, had the following exchange with the wounded man;

"How do you justify your actions?" queried the Senator. Brown replied, "I think, my friend you are guilty of a great wrong against God and Humanity. I say that without wishing to be offensive. It would be perfectly right for anyone to interfere with you, so far as to free those you willfully and wickedly hold in bondage. I do not say this insultingly."

Realizing that he would surely be hung for his crimes, he said, "You may dispose of me very easily; I am nearly disposed of now; but this question is to be settled - this Negro question I mean - the end of that is not yet."

In addition to exploring all the details of John Brown's early life, and his plans for the attack on Harper's Ferry, the author delves into the history of the "insanity" plea, which was just coming into its own in American criminal justice. Only months before John Brown's trial began, New York Congressman Daniel Sickles shot his wife’s lover in Washington, DC. He argued, successfully, that he was deranged at the moment of the shooting. He was found not guilty.

This is not the story we were all fed in grammar school. It is, at once, an account of the incident, and attendant crime, as well as a look into ourselves as a people, and our history as a nation. In his essay "Civil Disobedience", Henry David Thoreau pondered these questions; "Is it possible that an individual may be right and a government wrong? .....Are laws to be enforced simply because they are made?" These are pertinent questions, even today.

"The Miracle of Morgan's Creek" with Betty Hutton, Eddie Bracken and William Demarest (1944)

2012-01-09T00:01:00.005-05:00

This is a delightful World War Two film starring the irrepressible Betty Hutton, who plays Trudy Kockenlocker, singing and dancing alongside, and around, Eddie Bracken, who plays her love stricken suitor Norvel Jones, and William Demarest; later Uncle Charlie on "My Three Sons"; as the long suffering father of two girls in a small town during the war. A military base is located nearby, which causes some legitimate concern for the widowed father of two attractive daughters.

Ms. Hutton, is at her all-time best in this tale of a night gone totally wrong for everyone involved. The film opens with the Governor of the State being notified that a woman who resides at Morgan’s Creek has given birth to 6 babies. In an effort to cash in on this phenomenon, and put the state "on the map", the Governor attaches himself to the event with gusto. But trouble lurks when the flashback begins and the identity of the father(s) is called into question.

Basically, after an all-night party for the troops, Trudy wakes up to find herself married and pregnant, but with no memory of her husband's identity. She was with six guys at a dance, and now with six children from that one night, a father must be found.

A very risqué film for its time, I suppose it was the result of the public fervor to "please the boys" in uniform that allowed this movie to achieve the widespread acceptance which it did. It's a fun movie to watch, with wonderful direction by Preston Sturges, who also wrote the script, along with a very talented cast, all of whom still bring life to this story almost 70 years after it was filmed. Here's a clip of Eddie Bracken speaking with William Demarest, who is his prospective father-in law, as well as the town Constable. It's every daughter's nightmare.

Happy Birthday Elvis!

2012-01-08T15:19:00.008-05:00

Today would have been Elvis Presley's 77th birthday. This clip is from the so-called Elvis "Comeback" special, which aired in December 1968. The show featured Elvis "in the round", as shown here, as well as in production numbers featuring Ann-Margret and a slew of dancers. But the best part of the show was the entire half hour spent "in the round", as above, with Elvis doing what he did best, singing and clowning around.

These were the days before he got the cape. All of the guys around him were with him from the very beginning, and he is completely relaxed and comfortable in his performance. If you have never seen this show before, you are cheating yourself. This is real gospel infused, rhythm and blues just as it was done in Sun Studios in the 1950's. This was the last time Elvis would appear as just plain Elvis.

Driving in New York City - 1928 / 2012

2012-01-08T00:30:00.006-05:00

This 1928 video from You Tube features Harold Lloyd in one of the old silents still being made in New York City at the time. It's a wild stunt filled ride showcasing Manhattan in the late 1920's. The Great Depression was still a year away.

And here's a little something from my old neighborhood, on Kings Highway between East 15th and 16th Streets sometime in early 2011. I stumbled upon it while looking at old films of New York and Brooklyn subways. I was just there last September. While I do remember that trucks used to get stuck 1 block north of Kings Highway, on Avenue P, quite often, I never remember one getting stuck under the trestle on Kings Highway itself. I guess if you live long enough, you see it all...

"The Lazy Song" by Bruno Mars

2012-01-07T00:32:00.005-05:00

Not much to add to this one. It's self-explanatory! The sound quality is not that great, but you get the drift. There is a better version at the link posted below, but it's surrounded by advertisements, and I didn't like the way it looked. I could've "cropped" it- but, hey, "today I ain't doing anything."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLexgOxsZu0

New York City - 1956

2012-01-06T09:53:00.001-05:00

This video is a promotional film shot in 1956. I was born in 1954, so this film is the New York I remember from about 1958-1965. After that it was all downhill. Of interesting note are the 2 ships shown passing the Statue of Liberty; the first one is the USS Nautilus, the first nuclear powered submarine; and the next ship you see after that is the SS United States, which still holds the official record for a commercial crossing of the Atlantic, set in 1952. There are naval ships today which can undoubtedly make the trip in less time, but the east bound commercial record set by the SS United States in July of 1952, which was 3 days, 10 hours and 40 minutes still remains unbroken.

In many ways, New York is a timeless city. Although much of the technology has changed, and the clothes as well, New York still remains the giant melting pot which it has always been. May it ever be so.

Please Don't Burn OUR Flag.

2012-01-06T09:51:00.006-05:00

I sent the following letter to the Editor at the Charlotte Observer in response to last weeks burning of an American flag in Charlotte during the Occupy Charlotte protests by Alex Tyler, Jason Bargert, Michael Behrle and Stephen Morris.

My letter was prompted by Mr. Bargert's subsequent defense of his action, which was printed in the Charlotte Observer on January 4th. While I do NOT believe in a Constitutional Amendment concerning the burning of the American flag, I will never understand, nor condone, such a divisive action. John Lennon said it best in the song "Revolution" when he sang "...if you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain't gonna make it with anyone, anyhow." Mr. Bargert, at the age of 28, seems not yet old enough to understand that sentiment.

In the interest of fairness, which is a hallmark of our nation's founding, symbolized by the flag, I have reprinted Mr. Bargert's article below my rebuttal.

Bargert's Actions Misguided; Flag Symbolizes All of Us.

Jason Bargert, you seem to have missed the whole point of the Occupy movement.

That flag you burned symbolizes the people of this great nation, not the culprits you are protesting. The thing that should be burned in effigy is a figure of the politicians who have stolen that flag from its rightful owners - We the People.

Please do not burn anymore of our flags. The Occupy movement is only hurt by your misguided actions.

This is the letter from Jason Bargert, of Charlotte, defending his burning of the flag.

I, along with three others, set fire to the United States flag on the lawn at 600 E. Trade St. in front of the Occupy Charlotte camp. Though I have been openly involved with Occupy Charlotte, I did not provide notice or acquire approval for my actions, as is the policy of Occupy Charlotte. In this protest we acted as individuals, not as occupiers.

I would like to express that I intended no disrespect to the individual enlisted men, women, and veterans living and deceased. These people have entered service to the people of their nation and take a vow to protect their loved ones and countrymen. I hold our veterans in the highest regard knowing that their motives were not always the same as those who send them into battle.

The flag I burned was an effigy to the aggressive colonialism, destructive corporate policy, and utter negligence that the United States government has shown for the people's welfare and well being on a global scale.

I will apologize for the difficulty that my wife, family, and Occupy Charlotte must endure in the shockwave of my actions. My home and social life are in shambles, and I am aware that no one is responsible for this but myself.

I do, however, without remorse set fire to the hypocrisy, negligence, puppetry of our system, and adherence to flags and nationalism in the place of rational governance and compassion. The burning of the flag (to me) is an act that asserts the right of the people over the government. America is ruled by the people, not the government. I believe that it is our patriotic duty at this juncture to make that assertion. Flag burning is a patriotic act carried out by people who care deeply enough about our freedoms to challenge directly the government when it becomes a threat to the people. Patriots who love America burn flags.

I have received an outpouring of support from other occupiers, occupations, and individuals who understand the symbolism of my action. The local movement was unified in their contempt for the event that took place. They were, on the other hand, divided on the issue of whether or not those who participated should be banned. Most who seemed resolved to my removal had been working with the Charlotte City Council and local church groups to build a relationship in order to stop or postpone the ordinance that will remove the encampment. The encampment itself voted not to expel me.

The City Council has postured against the movement by drafting this ordinance in the first place. They have shown that they will, with full knowledge of the facts, welcome a corrupt corporation with an endless list of human rights violations into our community, and pay their moving expenses and taxes (Chiquita). To placate this council in order to keep the camp on grounds is not a victory. I hope that Occupy Charlotte will move away from a focus on public image and welcome an era of action.

I am very grateful for the movement's decision not to ban me. I am, however, saddened by the lack of support I have received. This being considered, I respectfully, and with overwhelming sadness resign my direct participation with Occupy Charlotte. This is by no means a resignation from my duties as an activist and active participant in the cause of freedom.

Jason Bargert
Charlotte, NC

"Lincoln On War" by Harold Holzer

2012-01-05T00:01:00.004-05:00

This may be the best book yet written concerning Abraham Lincoln. Actually, it is the closest thing to having Lincoln pen his own memoirs of the years between the War with Mexico and our own Civil War. In some ways it even eclipses the great 2 volume masterpiece by Carl Sandburg, which is considered by many, me included, to be the "Holy Grail" of books about our most mercurial President.

The War with Mexico is of great interest, as the annexation of the state of Texas, aside from having been accomplished illegally, added fuel to the fire that would eventually grow into the conflagration of full blown Civil War. Lincoln saw the annexation of Texas as a way for the Southern States to hold a majority in the Senate and Congress. This was at the time of the great debates concerning the Missouri Compromise, and the Fugitive Slave Act, both of which were mere band aids or attempts in vain, to stave off the bloodshed which was sure to come from the slavery question.

The author has let Lincoln speak for himself by using the President's letters and speeches to make his point. The book is laid out in a way which parallels the career and thoughts of our 16th President on all of the issues leading up to the Civil War. And once that war has begun, this correspondence gives us a new and keener insight into the thoughts behind the actions taken by Lincoln during the prosecution of the War Between the States.

Lincoln, at the outset, wanted only to ban slavery in the new territories being acquired out west. He had no intention of outlawing the institution itself. As late as in his first Inauguration speech, Lincoln was still not calling for the Abolition of Slavery in the Southern States, but only in the newly acquired territories. In his first Inaugural Address he spoke these words; "I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, to interfere with the Institution of Slavery in the States where it exists. I believe I have no lawful right to do so, and I have no inclination to do so." He had made this same declaration in earlier speeches and was re-quoting himself in an effort to allay the fears of the Southern States, which had already seceded from the Union in January of 1861.

By the time that Lincoln issued his duplicitous Emancipation Proclamation, which freed slaves in enemy territory only, the outlawing of slavery in the Southern States became the objective of the war. Previously the chief concern had been one of finances. Lincoln queried, on more than one occasion, whether it was right for the Southern States to leave the Union while keeping the forts and roadways which had been paid for by federal loans. These loans would have to be repaid to the banks, and Lincoln considered it to be an unfair burden upon the remaining states to bear the full brunt of their repayment.

This is an exciting book which lays bare many of the myths that have been pumped into us over the years; Mr. Holzer has presented a new side of one of our most well-known, but often misunderstood Presidents.

Midnight Special - 1973

2012-01-04T00:08:00.003-05:00

Remember Burt Sugarman's "Midnight Special" from the 1970's? Along with Don Kirschner's "Rock Concert", these iconic shows, both of which were the precursors of MTV, were viewed by millions during the years in which they aired. At the time of this video, I was living in Ohio, working in a factory. These shows were a staple of life for thousands of factory workers like me on Friday nights. Of course there was a little bit of hooch involved in watching the concerts, but with, or without it, these shows aired some pretty good music.

I wasn't sure of what I wanted to post today, so I turned to my old friend You Tube and typed in the word "specials", figuring that I would come up with some old footage from the variety shows which used to play on TV. But the first thing that came up was this hit by a group whose name I never forgot- simply because I never knew it in the first place. The record was one of my favorites at the time, and it really hasn't become "dated" over the years. The song is a cover version of "Brother Louie", originally recorded by Hot Chocolate, before being covered by this band named Stories.

Stories was primarily a "rock and pop" group, from New York during the early 1970s. It's members were keyboardist Michael Brown, bassist/vocalist Ian Lloyd, guitarist Steve Love, and drummer Bryan Madey. "Brother Louie" would be their only hit record, reaching #1 in 1973. Ian Lloyd would quietly go on to influence such bands as Foreigner, Peter Frampton, and Foghat. Also of note is that Michael Brown was a founding member of a group called the Left Banke, and wrote their 1965 hit single, "Walk Away Renee."

The introduction by Jose Feliciano is a great indication of the variety we were all exposed to in the days before satellite radio and all the other new technology which allows the viewer/listener to remain fixed on one particular genre, rather than being exposed to many different types of sounds. Although I have my own preferences in music, as most of us do, I really miss those days. But then again, I still listen to AM radio on occasion.

"El Narco" by Ioan Grillo

2012-01-03T00:16:00.004-05:00

One of the few positive effects of the recession has been the decline in the use of cocaine in the United States. Since 2009 use of cocaine has dropped from 2.4 million users, to about 1.6 million. This shrinking market has had a profound effect upon the levels of violence along our southern border with Mexico, as well as in Mexico itself, where whole provinces have become victims of what has increasingly become a narco-state. As the cartels vie for control of this shrinking market, they make it abundantly clear that they run much of Mexico. There are whole police forces on the payroll of some cartels. Journalists are killed for reporting it. Last year, at a military funeral, the grieving family were gunned down, simply as a warning to others.

In this fascinating book by Ioan Grillo, the author examines the history of the drug trade, encompassing both the powerful political and criminal forces which allow this trade to continue unfettered. He also manages to delve into the relationship of the Columbian cartels of the 1980's and how they shifted the distribution part of the business to the Mexicans in an attempt to avoid the anti-drug efforts of the DEA. Eventually, the Mexicans took over the entire trade, from cultivation to distribution.

Almost daily, the newspaper holds more stories of the drug related violence, beheadings, rapes, shootings and assassinations that occur with increasing frequency, while the governments of 2 nations are seemingly rendered powerless by the cartels. We have almost become desensitized to the violence at this point. We even extoll these "anti-heroes" in movies, books, and songs. In Mexico there are groups, such as the Grupa Cartel, who make their livings singing about the exploits of the cartels. Some are even on the cartel payrolls. There is even a fledgling movie industry cranking out gangster films for the cartels, all extolling the the lifestyles of the El Narcos.

The author also explores the re-emergence of the PRI, the political party which ruled Mexico for over 70 years after the Mexican Revolution of the early 20th Century. Under the leadership of that party, drug distribution was somewhat controlled, albeit with graft and corruption. But, in retrospect, this system was preferable to the wholesale lawlessness which prevails today, spilling over the border, threatening to turn parts of our own nation into "narco-states" of their own.

This is a very carefully researched book written in an engaging style. The historical aspects of our relationship with Mexico are explored here in an effort to understand just how our “neighbor to the South” became such a thorn in our side. The answer lies not only with Mexico, but also in our own history and politics, as well as with our nation’s continued thirst for the contraband which fuels the fire.

"The House By the Pond"

2012-01-02T00:05:00.003-05:00

The little house by the pond, once it stood,
In perfect harmony, with water and wood.
But ravaged by time, and overtaken by vines,
It was at last entombed, by forces combined,
To cheat of it's beauty, but somehow instead,
The house, as it is,has come out ahead!

January 1st, 2012
Mooresville, NC

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T00:08:00.004-05:00

The New Year is upon us and it’s time, once again, to begin filling in the blank pages that each New Year brings with it. The photo to the left is of Times Square in New York on New Years Eve 1954. No resolutions for me this year, as those never quite make it past January 2nd. I’m not sure what the year holds in store for us all. The Mayan calendar has run out, and Mayans everywhere are distraught.

The Presidential Election looms, not large, it just looms; like a lurking presence; almost as a pretender to a process that has spawned some of the most vile candidates ever offered up in an election. And that's a hard thing to accomplish, as we have had some pretty bad choices in the past!

Whatever you do, make this a year of civility. Stop letting the forces of money and power divide us. Strive to seek common ground, and stick with it, eschewing all other differences you may have with one another, just for this one year. Think of what we can do together if we ignore the "window dressing" issues that are thrust in our face to divide and conquer us. I'm talking about abortion, gay rights, same-sex marriage, and all the other comparatively petty differences. It's time to save the country and re-store the economy to its former health.

Finally, to all the folks who drop in here, and especially the ones who come back again and again, thank you for finding something of interest in my posts. You amaze me; from the authors and celebrities who take the time to comment, or e-mail me, right down to the anonymous comments that are posted from time to time; you make me feel as if I have a purpose, even if that's just my own delusion.

A Very Happy and Healthy New Year to you all.

"Let's Celebrake" with Popeye the Sailor (1937)

2011-12-31T00:14:00.011-05:00

I just wanted to end the year out on a fun note, so here's Popeye going out to celebrate New Year's Eve with Olive's grandmother in tow. This is one of Max Fleischer's solo efforts, although his brother Dave did direct it. They are among the best of the Popeye cartoons, with their brief, but barbed statements, always delivered in such a tone as to make the viewer need listen more carefully, lest he miss the joke. Have a safe New Year's Eve, whatever you are doing. See you tomorrow, or next year, if you prefer!

Frank "Sugar Chile" Robinson

2011-12-30T00:19:00.007-05:00

I ran across this while looking for something else. Frank Robinson is often mistakenly identified as a young Little Richard Penniman. He is not. But his story is unique.

Frank Robinson was born in 1938 in Detroit. He was a child prodigy by age two, later working with such luminaries as Lionel Hampton and Frankie Carle, who were master pianists themselves. He performed for President Truman at age seven and also appeared in the movie "No Leave, No Love" with Keenan Wynn the following year in 1946 when he was eight years old. This clip is from that film.

He is most remembered for his versions of "Numbers Boogie", which shot to #4, and the classic blues number "Caledonia", which reached #14. By 1952, at the age of 14, he stopped playing professionally to concentrate on his schoolwork. He is quoted in Wikipedia as having said in later years, "I wanted to go to school... I wanted some school background in me and I asked my Dad if I could stop, and I went to school because I honestly wanted my college diploma."

He went on to earn his Ph.D. in psychology at the University of Michigan, before returning briefly to the music business, setting up new labels in Detroit during the 1960's.

Still very much alive, Mr. Robinson made an appearance promoting Detroit music in 2002, and later, in 2009, he traveled to England to appear in a rock and roll revival concert.

Mr. and Mrs. Watts - A Love Story

2011-12-29T00:04:00.003-05:00

When Sue and I were first married we lived in Baltimore, Maryland just across the street on Clifton Avenue, from an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Watts. I don’t ever recall knowing their first names, as they each referred to one another as Mr. or Mrs. Watt in conversation. It was very quaint and unusual, just as they were.

This story concerns their courtship, and later on, marriage as it was relayed to me by them some 25 years ago. I believe I have the story remembered correctly.

The diminutive Mr. Watts, who was probably one of the shortest Marines ever admitted to the Corps, came home from the Second World War having survived the hand to hand combat that marked the Battle for Guadalcanal. He was a tough little guy, and still single at the age of 30. He took a job working for the railroad, first residing in Virginia, where his true love had originally been waiting out the war for him.

Mrs. Watts, I never did know her maiden name, was a nurse, and during the war had taken a job working up in Indianapolis. The photo above is of Union Station in Indianapolis, as it appeared in 1946. The two corresponded throughout the war and were anxious to see one another again. To that end, Mr. Watts secured a ticket for the trip to Union Station, where his love would be waiting. He had a mission on his mind, and love in his heart.

Mrs. Watts was busy on her end as well, making plans for the upcoming visit. She had been rooming at the YWCA, which of course did not permit men, so she sought out a hotel room. They had never “been together” before; those were her actual words to me; but somehow she felt that having a hotel room ready would not be a bad idea. To that end, she secured the Bridal Suite at the best hotel in town for the whopping price of $7 a night.

Mr. Watts arrived in Indianapolis by train, with the soon to be Mrs. Watts waiting for him at the station. They had dinner, a noontime meal, at the “best diner in town”, during which they began to discuss the events of the past few years and where they might be heading as a couple. That’s when he popped the question. I will let Mr. Watts take over from here and tell you about it. To do otherwise would only serve to diminish the story.

“I looked at Mrs. Watts and I said, ‘Look here Mrs. Watts’, only I didn’t call her Mrs. Watts yet, on account of we weren’t married. So I said, ‘Look here Mrs. Watts, you ain’t getting any younger and I ain’t getting any better lookin’, so what do you say we up and get hitched?’ Well sir, she about jumped right into my lap! And do you know she had a hotel room all set, kind of like she knew what I was going to ask before I even asked it.”

Well, Mr. and Mrs. Watts lived happily ever after, racking up at least 5 decades of marriage that I know of. I have always wondered if, when they said goodnight to one another, they called one other Mr. and Mrs. Watts. They moved away a few years after Sue and I married, and I am sure that they have both since passed on. No matter, wherever they are today, I know that they are still together. True love never dies.

The Year In Review - 1954

2011-12-28T00:02:00.004-05:00

It's that time of year again when everyone under the sun wants to review the past year's events ad nauseam. Having just experienced all the annoyance of the past year seems to me to be enough punishment for 2011. Tolerance has gone out of the window. The Tea Party is an International embarrassment, the economy stinks and the Senate and Congress have done everything in their power to act as obstructionists to anything which the President proposes. And meantime, life goes on, and on....

So I decided to do what I enjoy most, look backward. I chose 1954 because it is the year in which I was born. The newsreel was on its way out at the time, being replaced by the nightly news, on that new centerpiece of American life, the television. By the early 1960's the newsreel would disappear forever from the movie theaters.

This newsreel is interesting to me, not just because of the year, but also because of the cheery outlook it poses during some of the darkest days of the Cold War. The film begins with Hydrogen Bomb tests over Bikini Atoll in the South Pacific, and ends up extolling the virtues of the modern American kitchen. As a matter of fact, it was a kitchen set-up just like the one in this newsreel that set off a heated exchange between then Vice President Nixon and Premier Khrushchev in Moscow only 2 years later. The Yo-Yo championship players are also a real shot of nostalgia. So, this newsreel, summarizing the events of 1954 takes us from Hydrogen Bombs to Yo-Yo's in just about 8 minutes. You might say it was a very good year.

"Lucky"

2011-12-27T00:05:00.002-05:00

In the last few years of my mother’s life she began to write. She even took a creative writing class which resulted in her submitting stories to several publications, including the Jewish Daily Forward. I have re-printed one of her stories here before. But I never recall her writing about “Lucky”, the inaptly named pet duck she had when she was about 6 years old. I used to love hearing the story as it reminded me so much of the tumult in “You Can’t Take It With You”, the Kaufman-Hart play which was turned into a classic movie starring Lionel Barrymore. My mother’s home was just like that.

My mother was raised by her mother and a woman named Mary, a delightful Irish lady who worked as their maid and nanny. She became part of the family, with my grandmother and Mary living together even after Mary married and had children of her own. Added to this mélange were my Great Grandfather Max Henkin, from Russia, and his son, my Grand Uncle Irving.

My grandmother had caught her own husband with one of his lingerie models, flagrante delicto, at the time she was pregnant with my Mom, and so, she divorced my grandfather and became a single mother. This was in 1929 and very unusual for the times. She worked, though she didn’t need to, and the care of the children; my mother Ruth and her brother, my Uncle Walter; was largely left to Mary.

I’m a bit unclear as to how “Lucky” got into the picture. I seem to remember part of the story involving Miller’s Meats on Kings Highway, and he may have come from there. Anyway, “Lucky” ended up taking up residence in the bathtub of apartment 3-C at 3619 Bedford Avenue, on the corner of Kings Highway in Brooklyn, quickly becoming my mother's pet. If you live there now this may be of interest to you.

“Lucky” seemed very content with this arrangement, though again, on this point I am unsure just how long the arrangement lasted before disaster set in. In this case the disaster was initated by my Uncle Irving, who had a desire to take a bath. This was not at all unusual for Uncle “I”, as he was a fastidious person in all aspects of his living.

Reaching past the shower curtain, he started the warm flow of water, waited a few moments and then stepped behind the curtain. That’s when he screamed. It was, reportedly, a scream of epic proportions, echoing throughout the apartment, sailing from the windows into the courtyard and throughout the neighborhood. It came very close to being the "scream heard ‘round the world."

“Lucky”, initially happy to have company in what he perceived to be a spring shower, reacted to the scream by nipping at my Uncle’s legs while flapping his wings and quacking. The quacking and flapping soon ceased, and although it is unclear just who wrang “Lucky’s” neck, wrung it was, and the quacking ceased.

My mom was downstairs playing at the time and, with no foreknowledge of the incident, returned home in time for supper, ready to eat. Mary was finished cooking and my Grandmother had just laid the table when my mother arrived. The family sat down to dinner and my mother started in with relish, as she had been out all afternoon. She had just swallowed her first bite of dinner when Uncle Walter asked her if she was “feeling lucky tonight?” My mother had no idea what he meant by this question and went on eating.

That’s when Uncle “I” spilled the beans. Gently, he asked my mother how she liked the taste of duck. My mother stopped eating, and for the first time noticed that the whole table was staring at her. Quickly she put two and two together, and then, running from the table she entered the bathroom, with it’s now dry, and empty, bathtub. “Where’s ‘Lucky’?” she asked in all innocence. “You just ate her”, came the amused reply from her brother.

Sobbing hysterically, and feeling very much betrayed, she ran to her room, where she remained for the rest of the evening, not to be seen again until breakfast. There is no moral here, no lesson to be learned. Not many people keep ducks in their bathtubs nowadays anyhow. It’s just a warm memory of my mother telling me a story while she was preparing dinner one night. Although the story sounds a bit cruel, it apparently left no emotional scars on her. How do I know this? She told me the story while preparing dinner. We were having duck that night.

"Sybil Exposed" by Debbie Nathan

2011-12-26T09:03:00.005-05:00

I was never a big fan of, or believer in, the story of "Sybil", the blockbuster psychological bestseller about Sybil, a woman with multiple personality disorders. Her case spawned several decades of psycho-babble, and, as it all turns out, was largely the end product of gross manipulation by professionals looking to make names for themselves. It is also the story of a very disturbed woman who may never really have gotten the help she needed. As a matter of fact, she was probably damaged, more than helped, by a team of quacks.

Ms. Nathan writes a compelling book, detailing the use of LSD, truth serums, and "recovered memories", as tools which were employed to diagnose the patient. The results of these “experiments” were used to prove a pre-conceived notion of what was wrong, rather than first diagnosing the ailment and then treating it. It is so much more convenient to make the illness up first, and then create the symptoms to prove the diagnosis, rather than the other way around. She also delves into the cultural pressures of the times, as well as the media's share of the blame for this amazing, but true, story.

A "must read" book about something we all have been fooled into believing, this book will have you looking at mental health issues in a new light. It should be required reading for all who work in the mental health profession.

Santa's Going Home

2011-12-25T00:03:00.004-05:00

Santa has finished his rounds here on the East Coast and as soon as he has finished with the rest of the country he's headed home to take a few well deserved days off. Then it's back to work for the bearded one, getting ready for next Christmas. The reindeer will all be vacationing for a few days at an undisclosed location in the Pacific Northwest, along with the elves. We wish them all the best. See you guys next year!

As for me, it's a day off. Well, it's really one big day off, only today I get presents. I'll also be getting back to reviewing books and movies, as well. I've just been enjoying the holiday season this year, which is unlike me, and I decided to just "go with it."

So, here’s a heartfelt "Merry Christmas" to all of the people in 59 countries who read this blog daily in 83 languages/dialects. You continue to amaze me simply by stopping in, let alone e-mailing me! May your holiday be filled with all that is good. Talk at you tomorrow!

"Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement C. Moore (1823)

2011-12-24T00:19:00.005-05:00

Clement C. Moore was a very shy man. His poem "Twas the Night Before Christmas" was only published in the newspaper after a family friend sent it in to the New York Sentinel in December of 1823, where it was first published on December 23rd in anonyminity. It was not until 1844 that Mr. Moore would reveal his secret when the poem was published in a book of some of his other poems. If you're lucky enough to be with the grandkids, or if your own children have never had the pleasure of hearing this poem read aloud; here is you chance to correct that oversight.

"Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement C. Moore

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

"Christmas Eve" with Randolph Scott, Joan Blondell and George Raft (1947)

2011-12-23T00:23:00.007-05:00

This is one of the all-time greatest of Christmas movies, and also one of the most overlooked. It involves a wealthy widow who lives in Manhattan during the late 1940's, which is when the film was made. Aunt Matilda Reid's nephew is seeking to have her judged incompetent in order to become the sole trustee of her wealth. Her three wayward adopted sons have been gone for years, with not a word from any of them. One is a bankrupt playboy (George Brent), the other a rodeo rider (Randolph Scott), and the third son (George Raft), is a very mysterious man involved with hunting Nazi war criminals in South America.

Aunt Matilda has drawn just one concession from the lawyers and judge who are administering her case; if her sons show up before midnight on Christmas Eve, she wins. If not, she becomes the ward of her greedy nephew.

The film received tepid reviews in 1947 when it was released in late October. It was eventually re-released as "Sinner's Holiday", in an effort to attract a wider audience. I first ran across this gem in 1961, or so, while watching WOR-TV, Channel 9, in New York City. All the good old movies were on that channel.

As a matter of fact, "It's A Wonderful Life", with Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed, got it's second life from that station. That film was originally released in 1942, at a time when we were not winning the war. The film flopped. And then, around 1960, WOR-TV was looking for something to throw on the air Christmas Eve that wouldn't cost them anything. So they turned to "It's A Wonderful Life", a film whose copyright had just run out, enabling them to air the film for nothing. The switchboards lit up and another classic Christmas film was "discovered."

"A Christmas Carol" with Alistair Sim (1951)

2011-12-22T00:05:00.007-05:00

As we ramp our way up towards Christmas, I always take the time to pause and really enjoy this old film. I have reviewed it here before, so any other words would be superfluous on my part. Here is my review from last year;

This is the cream of the Christmas movie crop. The one I look forward to every year. The 1951 British version of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" will stand the test of time as the penultimate version of this tale. With flawless direction by Brian Desmond Hurst, this well known story of a miserly Counting House owner, and the effects his mean spirit have on all those around him, come alive with the incredible acting of Alistair Sim. No one comes close to portraying the mean spiritness of Scrooge, as well as his unbounded joy upon his redemption, as well as Mr. Sim.

Noel Langley did a wonderful job of turning one of the very best Christmas books into a faithful adaptation for the screen. The 1935 British version, as well as the later American version, both lacked that indefineable something which makes any artistic endeavor worth the effort in the first place. And the movie has been done several times since, but this is the version I would choose over any other.

Britain, at the time this movie was filmed, was still in the throes of the aftermath of the Second World War. They were still using ration books for food and sweets, as well as gasoline. Remember, the British took a hell of a hit before we joined the war in December of 1941. I mention this only as a possible explanation for the remaking of this film in the first place.

When I watch this film I tend to think of the Three Spirits as being allegories for what Britain had been before the war, what she endured during that war, and her hopes for a better future. Simplistic? Maybe.

I also watch this film with a copy of the book by my side. It's so loyal to the original prose, that there are whole pages where you can read along with the movie. It's then that you see, and feel, the brilliance of Mr. Sim's remarkable performance. To have the ability to act out the words, just as the author intended, is a joy to watch. I have to wonder what Charles Dickens would have thought of Mr. Sim's giddy version of Scrooge on Christmas morning. I suspect that he would deem it perfect.

Of course, no version of "A Christmas Carol" would be complete without a good Jacob Marley, and to that end this film gives us Michael Hordern as Scrooge's deceased partner. And he does a credible job as the Ghost of Marley. This scene used to scare the hell out of me when I was a kid. Now, I am more focused on what he is saying, "Mankind WAS our business!", as he shakes the shackles that bind him. Here is that scene, courtesy of good ol' You Tube;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGGohTPuOeQ

If I had only one holiday movie to choose from, this would be it. The lessons penned by Dickens so many years ago, still resonate today, when the world is still full of Ignorance and Want, mankinds two worst enemies. I didn't say it - Dickens did. I just happen to agree.

The Christmas Tree from "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn" by Betty Smith

2011-12-21T00:09:00.006-05:00

This is from my favorite book ever written, "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn" by Betty Smith. I actually keep extra copies on hand to give away. This text is from the 1943 Harper & Brothers 5th Edition. To me, this portion of the book represents something which lies beyond each of our exteriors; the true essence of who we are as individuals; in this case it is the "tree man", who is emblematic of us all; both wanting to give more, yet keenly aware of our own need to survive what is, indeed at times, “...a God-damned, rotten, lousy world!” All the more reason to give what you can to those in need during this holiday season.

There was a cruel custom in the neighborhood. It was about the trees still unsold when midnight of Christmas Eve approached. There was a saying that if you waited until then, you wouldn’t have to buy a tree; that “they’d chuck ‘em at you.” This was literally true.

At midnight on the Eve of our dear Saviour's birth, the kids gathered where there were unsold trees. The man threw each tree in turn, starting with the biggest. Kids volunteered to stand up against the throwing. If a boy didn’t fall down under the impact, the tree was his. If he fell, he forfeited his chance at winning a tree. Only the roughest boys and some of the young men elected to be hit by the big trees. The others waited shrewdly until a tree came up that they could stand against. The littlest kids waited for the tiny, foot-high trees and shrieked in delight when they won one.

On the Christmas Eve when Francie was ten and Neely nine, mama consented to let them go down and have their first try for a tree. Francie had picked out her tree earlier in the day. She had stood near it all afternoon and evening praying that no one would buy it. To her joy it was still there at midnight. It was the biggest tree in the neighborhood and its price was so high that no one could afford to buy it. It was ten feet high. Its branches were bound with new white rope and it came to a sure pure point at the top.

The man took this tree out first. Before Francie could speak up, a neighborhood bully, a boy of eighteen known as Punky Perkins, stepped forward and ordered the man to chuck the tree at him. The man hated the the way Punky was so confident. He looked around and asked;

”Anybody else wanna take a chanct on it?”

Francie stepped forward. “Me, Mister.”

A spurt of derisive laughter came from the tree man. The kids snickered. A few adults who had gathered to watch the fun, guffawed.

“Aw g’wan. You’re too little,” the tree man objected.

“Me and my brother — we’re not too little together.”

She pulled Neely forward. The man looked at them — a thin girl of ten with starveling hollows in her cheeks but with the chin still baby-round. He looked at the little boy with his fair hair and round blue eyes - Neeley Nolan, all innocence and trust.

"Two ain't fair," yelped Punky.

"Shut your lousy trap," advised the man who held all the power in that hour. “These here kids is got nerve. Stand back, the rest of youse. These kids is goin’ to have a show at this tree.”

The others made a wavering lane. Francie and Neeley stood at one end of it and the big man with the big tree at the other. It was a human funnel with Francie and her brother making the small end of it. The man flexed his great arms to throw the great tree. He noticed how tiny the children looked at the end of the short lane. For the split part of a moment, the tree thrower went through a kind of Gethsemane.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” his soul agonized, “why don’t I just give ‘em the tree, say Merry Christmas and let ‘em go. What’s the tree to me? I can’t sell it no more this year and it won’t keep till next year." The kids watched him solemnly as he stood there in his moment of thought. "But then," he rationalized, if I did that, all the others would expect to get 'em handed to 'em. And next year nobody a-tall would buy a tree off of me. They’d all wait to get ‘em handed to ‘em on a silver plate. I ain’t a big enough man to give this tree away for nothin’. No, I ain't big enough. I ain't big enough to do a thing like that. I gotta think of myself and my own kids." He finally came to his conclusion. "Oh, what the hell! Them two kids is gotta live is this world. They got to get used to it. They got to learn to give and take punishment. And by Jesus, it ain’t give but take, take, take all the time in this God-damned world.” As he threw the tree with all his strength, his heart wailed out, “It’s a God-damned, rotten, lousy world!”

Francie saw the tree leave his hands. There was a split bit of being when time and space had no meaning. The whole world stood dark and still as something dark and monstrous came through the air. The tree came towards her blotting out all memory of her having lived. There was nothing – nothing but pungent darkness and something that grew and grew as it rushed at her. She staggered as the tree hit them. Neeley went down to his knees but she pulled him up fiercely before he could go down. There was a mighty swishing sound as the tree settled. Everything was dark, green and prickly. Then she felt a sharp pain at the side of her head where the trunk of the tree had hit her. She felt Neeley trembling.

When some of the older boys pulled the tree away, they found Francie and her brother standing upright, hand in hand. Blood was coming from scratches on Neeley’s face. He looked more like a baby than ever with his bewildered blue eyes and the fairness of his skin made more noticeable because of the clear red blood. But they were smiling. Had they not won the biggest tree in the neighborhood? Some of the boys hollered “Hooray!” A few adults clapped. The tree man eulogized them by screaming,

“And now get the hell out of here with your tree, you lousy bastards.”

Francie had heard swearing since she had heard words. Obscenity and profanity had no meaning as such among those people. They were emotional expressions of inarticulate people with small vocabularies; they made a kind of dialect. The phrases could mean many things according to the expression and tone used in saying them. So now, when Francie heard themselves called lousy bastards, she smiled tremulously at the kind man. She knew that he was really saying, Goodbye – God bless you.”

Happy Chanukah!

2011-12-20T13:39:00.010-05:00

Happy Chanukah! Tonight is the first of eight nights of celebration commemorating the Miracle of the Lights. Literally, Chanukah means a re-dedication. This always takes place on the 25th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev. The story behind the holiday is, of course, like Christmas, biblical in it's origins. The actual events took place over 2,000 years ago in Judea amongst the Hebrew people of the time.

The Jews were the first mono-theists, that is, they were the first to believe in one God. To honor him they built a temple on Mt. Moriah in Jerusalem. Inside were the scrolls of the Torah, which were housed in an Ark. That Ark stood on an Altar which also held a lamp of oil burning in God's honor. This was a symbol of the special relationship the Jews felt with their Creator.

At the same time as the Hebrew people were worshipping their God, Alexander the Great was busy conquering the entire Persian Empire, an area that includes present day Iran, Iraq and the surrounding states. Wherever Alexander the Great went he erected huge statues of the Greek idols. He also placed statues of himself in every important place to show that these countries were under his rule.

At first Alexander allowed the Jews to worship their God with little interference, but that soon came to an end. When the Jews were ordered to place a statue of Alexander the Great on Mt. Moriah, they were horrified! Alexander understood this and allowed the Jews an exemption to this rule, and grateful Jews everywhere named their first born sons Alexander in his honor.

When Alexander died, Antiochus came into power. He was an unforgiving and determined man, hell bent on putting the Jews in their place. He forbid the Jews to worship in their own way and outlawed the Sabbath. Things might have gone on in this way for a while longer had Antiochus not made one crucial mistake.

On the 25th of Kislev, he ordered his troops to bring a statue of Zeus to Mt. Moriah for placement inside of the temple. And then he did the unthinkable - he slaughtered a pig on the Altar, spraying the Torah with the blood of the animal as he did. He then set out in the countryside, erecting more statues and demanding that the people worship them. This was not to be.

A local villager named Mattathias, knocked the statues down and formed his 5 sons into a band of rebels he named the "Maccabees", which means hammer in Hebrew. Soon, more Jews joined Mattathias and his sons, attacking the soldiers and destroying the idols. Antiochus was in a full blown rage at this affront to his supremacy and gathered his army outside of Jerusalem, intent on destroying the Jews once and for all.

At dawn his troops attacked, and were ambushed by the waiting "Maccabees." The people took refuge in the Temple atop Mt. Moriah and repaired all the damage that Antiochus had done to the Altar. Three years later, on the same date, the 25th of Kislev, the Temple was re-dedicated to God. The only problem was, of course, a shortage of oil for the lamp. With a prayer, the Holy Priest poured one days oil into the lamp, and then prayed for the light to last until new oil could be obtained.

That one day's worth of oil burned for 8 days, sustaining the faith of a battered people. And that is why we commemorate this event every 25th of Kislev. There is miracle in light, as well as light in every miracle. Happy Chanukah to all!

"Holiday Affair" with Robert Mitchum and Janet Leigh

2011-12-19T00:09:00.007-05:00

This is another of those wonderful films which never gets the credit it deserves. It's also a repeat of last year's post on the same film.

In this Christmas tale, which takes place in the Manhattan of 1949, Janet Leigh plays a widowed mother of a 6 year old boy. She is a comparison shopper for a major department store. When she buys and then returns a set of trains, as part of her job, just before Christmas, she ignites a chain of events which involves not only her son, but also her impending marriage to a well to do attorney, whom she does not really love. In addition, when Steve, played by Robert Mitchum, does not report her covert activities to his boss, he is fired.

Finding himself homeless, and without any prospects, just in time for Christmas, he spends his last money, before leaving for the West Coast, to buy the trains for the boy. This causes some friction between the boy's mother and her fiancée, which threatens their relationship. The boy, knowing that Steve is broke, returns the trains in order to provide him with some money before he leaves New York.

The fiancée senses the feelings that have arisen between Steve and his intended bride, and graciously backs off, but Steve is unwilling to claim the love which he has won. He feels that he has been battling not only the fiancée for her affections, but also the memory of her deceased husband, a battle he cannot hope to win unless she is willing to let go of the past.

Robert Mitchum is in rare form in this romantic holiday film. Fans of Janet Leigh will be surprised at just how young she was in 1949, when this film was made. Yet within 5 years she would be one of the hottest "properties" in Hollywood, starring in several Alfred Hitchcock films, and married to Tony Curtis, a union which would give birth to actress Jamie Lee Curtis.

With many uncredited character actors to round out the cast, smart direction and a witty script give this film the momentum it needs to push it through. The storyline is ably written and still applicable to today's relationships involving "non-traditional" families. A good holiday film on several levels, yet often forgotten amongst the myriad of films available at this time of year, I dust this one off each Christmas for inspiration.

"The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry

2011-12-18T00:24:00.004-05:00

O. Henry, along with the likes of Mark Twain, marked a new type of journalist; ones who became serious writers; a tradition which has continued to the present day. With such luminaries from Mark Twain on through to Jimmy Breslin and Norman Mailer, journalists have become, increasingly, some of the leading writers of their times. O.Henry was no exception. With his incredible feel for irony, and knowledge of human behavior, he wrote of the daily struggles which faced the generation of his time. Jim and Della are emblematic of that struggle, and the love for one another which enabled them to make it through the rough times. The irony in the story is apparent, as well as their love for one another. The illustration I have posted here is the "Adoration of the Magi" by the Italian Artist, Sandro Botticelli (1445-1510). This is a perfect Christmas story, which I have enjoyed for many years, thanks once again, to a grammar school teacher who really had a heart, and made a difference. Mrs. Denslow, this one's for you.

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

"The Thin Man" with William Powell and Myrna Loy

2011-12-17T00:17:00.004-05:00

This was first posted last December - can you tell I'm taking it easy this month?

Looking for a good Christmas movie with a little bit of a twist? Look no further than this one. "The Thin Man" is one of those "whodunits" that seldom get made these days. William Powell, impeccably dressed, as always, plays Nick Charles, a former playboy-detective who marries Myrna Loy, who plays Nora Charles, his wife. He has retired from the "detecting" business in order to "keep an eye on my wife's money."

When Mr. and Mrs. Charles arrive in New York just in time for the holidays, the last thing on their minds is to become involved in solving the murder of an old friend, Professor Wynatt. But with the press hounding him, and a wife who wants to see her famous husband in action, there is not much hope in evading the inevitable, as Mr. Charles drinks his way to solving the crime.

Loaded with character actors, the faces of whom you will instantly recognize, the film is fast paced and the dialogue witty. Nick and Nora are perfect as they romp their way through the holidays, culminating their investigation with an elegant dinner party, during which the killer is finally exposed. With the case wrapped up in time for New Years Eve, the couple happily boards the train for the return trip to San Francisco, and their next escapade.

Long the most admired of the many duos who have played the part of Nick and Nora, both in Hollywood and on TV, William Powell and Myrna Loy have that certain screen chemistry that will make you think they are really married. And with a script based on the novel by Dashiell Hammett, what more could you ask for.

Here's one of the early scenes in the film;

Two Degrees - One Night

2011-12-16T00:11:00.004-05:00

Sarah Ruth Hoffman received her hard earned Master's Degree in Human Nutrition last evening. The ceremony took place at Winthrop University in South Carolina, where Sarah has been studying for over 5 years. Both Sue and I are very proud of her, and her brother Shane, as well, who also received his degree in Applied Physics this evening in Texas. So, it was kind of like when the kids were in Little League in 2 different counties. Sue and I would pass one another when we got home from work and then go separate ways to separate games.

These two degrees made me think of that part in "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn", when Katie realizes that her children will go further than she has. It's a milestone moment when you realize that your children are now better educated than yourself.

Sue and I had to do a little bit of "family planning", so to speak, to pull it off. Sue got to go to Texas and be with Shane for his graduation, as well as see the grandkids, while I got to stay home and be here for Sarah's ceremony. It was a pretty good night either way, and we are tremendously proud of both the kids for going the "distance."

On the way home I compared my own life, as well as Sue's, at their ages, 24 and 34, respectively. It would appear that they now have more options than Sue and I did at those same times in our lives. And that's a good thing, as it means they are moving in the right direction. Sometimes you get to live your own dreams through the accomplishments of your children. Thanks, Sarah and Shane, for making our dreams a reality.

"The Shop Around The Corner" with James Stewart, Margaret Sullavan and Frank Morgan

2011-12-15T00:00:00.007-05:00

This review was originally posted last December. I almost reviewed it again after watching it last evening! So, instead, here is the review from last year. I really do love this film. It's one of Ernst Lubitsch' best films.

This 1940 film by Ernst Lubitsch, starring Jimmy Stewart and Magaret Sullavan is one of the most beautifully crafted films ever made, and is based on the play by Miklós László. The story is simple, in the weeks leading up to Christmas in Budapest, the department store of Matuschek and Company, is gearing up for the holiday season. The owner, Hugo Matuschek is played brilliantly by Frank Morgan, known to millions worldwide as the Wizard of Oz. His right hand man, Alfred Kralik, is played by Jimmy Stewart. The two are very close, Mr. Matuschek values the opinions of his manager. Things are going very smoothly, with Kralik expecting a promotion by Christmas. Enter Margaret Sullavan as Klara Novak, an unemployed and high strung young woman. Through a bit of trickery she lands a job at Matuschek and Company, which in turn drives a wedge between Mr. Matuschek and Kralik.

While Kralik has been exchanging letters with an unknown "friend" through the classified ads, Ms. Novak has been doing the same. Without knowing, they have been exchanging letters with one another, stretching the truth a bit where necessary. So, neither one has any idea that their co-worker is the object of their affections. In fact, the opposite is true, as they grate on one another’s nerves, and the Christmas holiday approaches. And to top it all off, they are both thinking about marriage to their prospective "pen pals", although they have never met.

At the same time, a subplot is taking place as the shops "dandy", Ferencz Vadas, played exceptionally by Joseph Schildkraut, does all he can to make life unbearable for his fellow employees.

With a cast of character actors such as Felix Bressart, who plays Kraliks friend and fellow employee Pirovitch, and William Tracy as Pepi, the stores delivery boy, this movie will easily call you back year after year for a look at Christmas in Hungary in the days before all the madness began.

The movie has at least 3 endings. By that I mean there are 3 separate times when the movie could end, leaving the audience happy, but Ernst Lubitsch, being Ernst Lubitsch, has so many tricks up his sleeve, that you will find yourself enjoying 3 endings, each one wrapping up a portion of the film that you may have forgotten about. This is the art of Ernst Lubitsch. Just when you think it's over - it's not.

One of the all-time great Christmas movies, this film was remade in the 1990's with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan as "You've Got Mail." I have never been able to sit through that entire film; simply because this 1940 version by Ernst Lubitsch captured my heart so many years ago.

Here is a scene from the original movie;

"Gift Wrapped" with Tweety and Sylvester (1951)

2011-12-14T09:00:00.003-05:00

This cartoon is a perfect example of the change that came to animation in the 1950's. Aside from the cheaper cost of production, the subject matter became cheaper as well. If you watch any of the older cartoons from Christmas in the 1930's, and then compare them to the ones from the 1950's, it's impossible to ignore the changes. This is actually a Christmas cartoon, yet Tweety and Sylvester are kicking the crap out of one another! Don't get me wrong, I find the cartoon amusing, or I wouldn't be posting it. But you can't help but wonder how these cartoons affected society in general, as a whole generation grew up; me included; for the first time, in front of TV's, watching cartoons like this. Joy to the World!

Howard Fast On Ebooks - Into the Digital Age

2011-12-13T00:07:00.007-05:00

I don't usually endorse any sort of product on this site. I generally stick to reviews of books, movies, and music, as well as telling some stories. But today's release of Howard Fast in e-book fashion by Open Road Media is an exception to the rule. Why? Because Howard Fast is an icon of American literature. If you are unfamiliar with Howard Fast, and his work, here is your chance to correct that oversight.

Although I am, by nature, and age, a devotee of the printed word, it gives me such pleasure to see that many of our greatest American classics are beginning to find their way into the digital age. Written works, by authors such as Mr. Fast, define who we are, and where we have been. Each book is its own lesson. What a pity it would be to have lost all of Mr. Fast's work to technological changes. I still have a paperback copy of "April Morning", which I treasure as a link to my childhood, and the wonderful teacher who opened my eyes to the artistry of Howard Fast. Her name was Mrs. Denslow. I can't help but wonder what she would have thought about e-books.

Howard Fast, as you will learn from the video, was one of the most prolific of American writers. In 1950 he was sentenced to 3 months in prison for refusing to answer questions during the McCarthy hearings. Rather than waste his time in jail, he wrote "Spatacus." That should tell you a whole lot about Howard Fast, and why it is so important that his works be preserved. The following materials, as well as the video, were provided by Ms. Laura DeSilva at Open Road Media in marking this special ocassion.

Sixty-three Titles by New York Times Bestselling Author Howard
Fast Launching as Ebooks from Open Road Media

"The only thing that infuriates me, is that I have more unwritten stories in me than I can conceivably write in a lifetime." —Howard Fast

Sixty-three titles by Howard Fast (1914–2003), one of the most prolific American writers of the twentieth century, will be released as ebooks by Open Road Integrated Media in December. Open Road will publish both fiction and nonfiction during a three-stage rollout.

Howard Fast, the best selling author of more than eighty works of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and screenplays, grew up in New York City and published his first novel upon finishing high school in 1933. In 1950, his refusal to provide the United States Congress with a list of possible Communist associates earned him a three-month prison sentence, along with a place on the blacklist of several major publishers. During his incarceration, Fast wrote one of his best-known novels, Spartacus (1951), and went on to found his own press, Blue Heron, in order to release the work. Throughout his long career, Fast matched his commitment to championing social justice in his writing with a deft, lively storytelling style. His collection of bestselling novels such as Conceived in Liberty, Citizen Tom Paine, April Morning, and The Legacy illustrate themes of freedom and human rights in a time of turbulence and global war.

On December 13, 2011, nineteen titles—including April Morning—will be released. In April Morning, on the eve of the American Revolution, the Battle of Lexington and Concord changes a boy’s life—and a nation’s history—forever. Sweeping in scope and masterful in execution, this novel is a classic of American fiction and an unforgettable story of one community’s fateful struggle for freedom. The Incredible Tito, Fast’s fascinating biography of Joseph Broz, known to the world as Tito, including his rise to power and his remarkable stand against fascism, will be offered to readers as a free download.

On December 20, nineteen mysteries by Howard Fast writing as E. V. Cunningham will be released as ebooks. These include the Masao Masuto mysteries, beginning with The Case of the Angry Actress, starring detective Masuto, a second-generation Japanese-American, Buddhist homicide detective. Other titles include such female-centered works as Phyllis, Sally, and others.

On December 27, twenty-five titles will complete Open Road Media's Howard Fast ebook collection. Three of these are from Fast's much-loved Immigrants series, an immensely popular saga that spanned six novels and over a century of the Lavette family’s story. Of this series, Open Road will release The Legacy, The Immigrant's Daughter, and An Independent Woman. Two of the nonfiction titles—The Art of Zen Meditation, in which Fast offers readers a simple, straightforward introduction to Zen meditation, which had a profound influence on his writing and personal philosophy; and Spain and Peace, a 1951 pamphlet that contains a powerful denunciation of Spanish dictator Francisco Franco—will be offered as free downloads.

Extra content includes:

• Behind-the-scenes author commentary and videos at www.openroadmedia.com/authors/howard-fast.aspx
• An illustrated biography in each ebook, including previously unseen photographs and documents from Fast’s personal life and distinguished career.

"Murder In the First Class Carriage" by Kate Colquhoun

2011-12-12T10:19:00.007-05:00

If you have ever read a British "whodunit" by Agatha Christie, or if you enjoy movies such as "The Lady Vanishes", then this is the book for you. Painstakingly researched, and written in the manner of a good murder-mystery, this book grabs your attention on page one, and keeps you reading, looking for the one clue that will solve the mystery of just who murdered Thomas Briggs, an elderly banker travelling alone on the North London Railway in 1864. Mr. Briggs was a punctual man, bankers generally are, and when he did not return home at the expected time, his family knew that something was wrong. How right they were.

There had never been a murder on a British train before July 9th, 1864, and the crime galvanized the nation. Scotland Yard sent their best detectives to solve the case, as well as assuage the public's concern. This was a new type of crime, one that would affect even the wealthiest of citizens. Travelling in First Class was not as safe as one would suppose. British trains back then did not have a common interior passageway, you boarded from the outside and the conductor locked the door from the outside. You were, in effect, in solitary confinement for the distance between stations. That is where Mr. Briggs was killed, between stations.

With no real forensics to go by; fingerprinting and blood typing were still a bit in the future; the case is baffling to the police, while the public clamors for the murderer to be brought to justice. At this point, Inspector Tanner of the Metropolitan Police Force is placed in charge of the case and quickly has a suspect. The alleged killer turns out to be a German man named Franz Muller. Employed as a tailor, Mr. Muller made his living by travelling from country to country, plying his trade. This was not unusual at the time. The sewing machine had just been invented a little over a decade earlier, and tailors were in great demand.

What really makes this book is the fact that it marks the first time a killer is pursued across the ocean, by ship, to America. Making it even better is the technology that came into play in order to make the arrest. Muller left for America within a few days of the murder. During that time he pawned a watch chain which had belonged to the victim. He used the proceeds to purchase a different chain and a ring, which he proceeded to show off. He then sailed for America aboard a sailing vessel. Detective Tanner, after developing his case, set sail on a steam powered vessel, intending to beat him to New York, where he would be awaiting Müller’s' arrival with Extradition papers in hand. Against the backdrop of the American Civil War, he was able to obtain the necessary documents to bring Muller back to England for trial.

Back in England, with the suspect on trial for murder, the Prosecution relied on mostly circumstantial evidence to convict, and then execute, Franz Muller for the murder of Thomas Briggs. The verdict was mainly reached due to an indentation on the victim’s hat, by a thumb, which kind of matched that of the accused.

Was Mr. Muller really guilty? I'm not sure; you will have to decide for yourself. Full of high drama and suspense, this book will have you wondering about progress, and its effect upon justice, both then, and now.

Bugs Bunny - "A Christmas Carol"

2011-12-11T07:33:00.003-05:00

I wanted to do something a bit different for Christmas season this year, and so I've been running some old cartoons, here and there, throughout the month. They're all related to Christmas is some way, and you may recognize one or two from when you were a kid and the magic of Christmas was still real. In other words; before you had to pay for it!

Cynicism aside, this cartoon is, of course, based upon the Charles Dickens novel "A Christmas Carol", and so we present this version, courtesy of You Tube, with our apologies to Mr. Dickens. At the same time, these old cartoons did send some us in search of the real thing at the library. If you've got a grandkid around for the holidays, sit down and watch this with them. They'll remember it long after you're gone. And, in the bargain, they just might find their way to reading the book later on.

"All I Want For Christmas Is You" by Vince Vance and the Valiants

2011-12-10T08:05:00.004-05:00

This is one of the great contemporary Christmas songs. There aren't too many out there, this one is from 1993. It's a bit reminiscent of "Blue Christmas" by Elvis, but with horns. It's also the first original Christmas song that Sue and I were able to share after we were married that held no connection to the past. That kinda makes it our Christmas song. I don't think the group lasted as long as we have, but I'll have to check on that. Here is a link to the group's website;

http://www.myspace.com/vinnievance

"Peace On Earth" (1939)

2011-12-09T00:02:00.003-05:00

Okay, getting back, as promised, to some seasonal cartoons, this one was released around the time that Germany invaded Poland, which marked the beginning of World War Two. The memory of the First World War was still fresh in everyone's minds in 1939, and this cartoon carried a very clear message about the ravages of war and the associated consequences. Beautiful animation, and clear, crisp sound quality make this cartoon a real pleasure to watch. From it's opening number, "Peace On Earth", this is a perfect cartoon for the season. Grab the grandkids for this one!

"Dirty Old Town" by Ewan MacColl (1949) as Performed by The Pougues

2011-12-08T00:43:00.010-05:00

I first heard of this group while watching an episode of "Rescue Me". The video is stunning, in that it reflects the Ireland we have all read about in the McCourt brother's books, from "Angela's Ashes" and "Teacher Man" by Frank McCourt, to Malachy McCourt's "A Monk Swimming". The Ireland depicted in those books is evident in this wonderfully poignant song about resignation and rebellion. The visual effect of the lead singer, lends credence to the hard life which the McCourt Brothers both reference in their respective memoirs.

The song speaks of a working class youngster enamored of his true love and the town in which they met. He finds beauty in both. Yet, another part of him longs for something better; not only for himself, but also for his true love.

The song was made popular by The Dubliners, and most people tend to think of the song in regards to Ireland. In fact, though, the song was written by Mr. MacColl in reference to the Northern English industrial town of Salford, which is located in Lancashire. The line "Smelled a spring on the smoky wind" was originally written as "..a Salford wind", which did little to endear the song to the town council, who then persuaded Mr. MacColl to change the lyric.

In Ireland the song is thought to be about Dublin. Most listeners, particularly those in England, are surprised to hear that the song was written by a man from Lancashire, who was also of Scottish descent. Reminiscent in a way of "Factory Girl", by the Rolling Stones, this is a truly moving song.

"Dirty Old Town" by Ewan MacColl (1949)

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I Kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

Clouds are drifting across the moon
Cats are prowling on their beat
Spring's a girl from the streets at night
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

I Heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
I Smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

I'm gonna make me a big sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
I'll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

Rosanne Cash in Charlotte

2011-12-07T00:08:00.008-05:00

Sue and I went to see, and hear, Rosanne Cash last night in Charlotte. This performance was not part of a tour, she was in Asheville to speak at a Women's Conference and has never played Charlotte before. She was very well received, and a bit surprised at the warm reception. I have been a fan since 1981, and her work has never failed to leave me inspired, and also somewhat introspective. This is not just Johnny Cash's daughter; Rosanne Cash is an artist in her own right. Since having hit the charts with "Seven Year Ache" in 1981, Ms. Cash has had quite a career, inspiring her listeners with such gems as the album "Kings Record Shop", as well as 2009's release of "The List", which was inspired by her father’s making a list of the most important 100 songs in American music.

The video of "Seven Year Ache", above, is taken from her appearance, along with Lacey J. Dalton, Emmylou Harris, Gail Davies, and Pam Rose for a PBS broadcast in 1986. Below is a recent performance of the same song at Harro East in Rochester, N.Y. on September 16th of this year. That's Ms. Cash's husband John Leventhal on guitar, just as he was last night for the entire performance, helping to turn every song into a new experience, and playing a very varied playlist of songs from her past few albums, "Black Cadillac" and "The List".

Opening for Ms. Cash was the bluegrass duo from Chapel Hill, "Mandolin Orange", composed of singer-songwriter Andrew Marlin, and violinist/vocalist/guitarist Emily Frantz. They were a tremendous surprise, with Mr. Marlin pulling forth vocals that even had Ms. Cash amazed.

When they were through, Ms. Cash took the stage and promptly got right down to business, regaling the audience with all of their favorites, such as the 1985 Grammy winning "I Don't Know Why You Don't Want Me", "My Baby Thinks He's A Train", and of course "Seven Year Ache". With 11 # 1 singles to her credit as well as 21 Top 40 hits and 2 Gold Records, she is well established as an entertainer.

Accompanied throughout by her husband, John Leventhal, she proved, once again last night, that she still has the grace and charm to beguile an audience. Of course she did "Tennessee Flat Top Box", one of her father's signature songs, to the delight of all the fans in attendance. With some special treatment on the guitar by Mr. Levanthal, that song was one of the many highlights of the evening’s performance.

Another show stopper was Ms. Cash and Mr. Leventhal's treatment of Bobby Gentry's 1967 hit recording "Ode to Billie Joe", which they turned into something hot and sultry, while still retaining the integrity of the original recording. "Motherless Children" and "I'm Moving On" were both equally surprising in their presentations.

The entire show lasted several hours or so. For an encore Ms. Cash returned to the stage and did "Girl From the North Country", referencing her Dad's version from his iconic album, "Nashville Skyline". Nobody left disappointed. With her wry sense of humor, and crystal clear voice containing all of the strength of her father, while still conveying her own unique style; how could they?

The Andy Griffith Show - "A Christmas Story" (1960)

2011-12-06T00:02:00.002-05:00

This is one of my favorite TV Christmas "episodes". It's from the Andy Griffith Show and was aired during the first season in 1960. It's really worth the time to watch. The story is not unlike Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" in some ways, while also reminiscent of O.Henry's "The Cop and the Anthem", in which the main character, "Soapy", tries everything in his power to get arrested in order to avoid spending the winter on the streets. Ironically, he is finally arrested and sent to prison for something he did not do.

In this wonderful Christmas episode, Sam, a local family man, played by Samuel Muggins, is caught by a local businessman, Ben Weaver, played by Will Wright, making moonshine for Christmas Eve. Just as Andy and Barney have paroled all the prisoners and are getting ready to close the Courthouse for the holiday, Ben comes in with Sam, and the evidence, in tow, forcing Andy and Barney to keep the Courthouse open over Christmas. But there is more than one way to skin a cat, and Ben finds himself outside, looking in, until he comes up with a plan of his own. Though it may mean spending time in jail himself, he does manage to learn the meaning of the Christmas Spirit.

"Christmas Comes But Once A Year" by Max Fleischer (1936)

2011-12-05T10:34:00.002-05:00

I thought I would post a few cartoons from Christmas past in the weeks leading up to the holiday. I always loved these old classic cartoons, and this one is a great example of the quality of the animation being produced in the 1930's. Max and Dave Fleischer were two of the best. They often worked separately on various projects, though their best works are probably the collaborations they produced with the Popeye cartoons. But this is a wonderful little story about an orphanage on Christmas morning. I hope that you enjoy it.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

2011-12-04T00:26:00.006-05:00

It's officially Christmas at our house. The tree is up, all credit, as usual, to Sue. The outside will get done tomorrow. Christmas is really special for us this year; like so many Americans, we're thankful for simply having gotten through the year intact. We're grateful for all that we have, and need, while mindful of the difference between "needing" and "wanting."

The tree, due to my allergies, is artificial. But the joy that Sue takes in putting it up, and then then the joy of seeing it lit up, are all very real to me. Let the festivities begin...

"Kearny's March" by Winston Groom

2011-12-03T00:11:00.009-05:00

Where do you start to review a book as expansive in its scope as this one? Winston Groom has taken 4 seemingly different events, and then woven them seamlessly together, presenting a full view of some of the events which eventually lead to the Civil War. It is, as a matter of fact, his contention that the Civil War began with the acquisition of Texas, and California, from Mexico at the end of the War with Mexico. The acquisition of these lands, including Oregon and Washington State, gave urgency to the resolution of the Abolitionist Movement sweeping America at the time. With the new territories the South would be larger and thus have more representation in Congress and the Senate. It was feared that slavery, often called "that peculiar institution", would go on forever.

James Polk was the first of our Presidents to really act on the idea of "Manifest Destiny", which is the belief that this continent was somehow reserved for Americans to settle. And we have; from "sea to shining sea"; done just that. But the remarkable story of how we got there is worth knowing.

In 1846 General Kearny set out for California from Kansas with two thousand soldiers. Their mission was to secure the borders of Oregon against any incursion by the British. The original line of demarcation was 54 degrees and 40 minutes North latitude. Eventually, without going to war with England, the line was set at 49 degrees North latitude, which allowed the British to keep Vancouver. It also secured the Northern half of California, which was too far from Mexico City to be governed effectively by the Mexican Government. At the same time, Mexico was broke after obtaining her freedom from Spain. She was not too concerned with Northern California. But she was very serious about not losing Texas to the United States. And she was prepared to fight for it.

It isn't too often that an author can make history come alive, but that is just what Mr. Groom has done in this sweeping saga of America's growth in the days before the Civil War. Readers of this book, who are students of that conflict, will come away with a much greater understanding of how we were unable to avoid that war, largely due to the acquisition of the new territories and all of the political jockeying which accompanied it. In an effort, on each side, to have it their way, these new territories became focal points of division, as well as examples of our growing power as a nation. To quote Dickens’, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."

Peopled with such luminary characters such as Kit Carson, Daniel Boone, General Santa Anna, General Fremont, Brigham Young, the Donner Party, Zachary Taylor, and Jefferson Davis, this book delivers something new with the turn of each page. And though we all know the outcome before we even begin to read the book, Mr. Groom has pieced all the facts together in a lively and even entertaining way.

A good book compels the reader to stay up a few minutes more to read "just one more page." This book has you staying awake to "read just one more chapter." High praise, indeed.

"Stalag 17" with William Holden, Otto Preminger

2011-12-02T09:20:00.005-05:00

This is a film that I associate with Christmas. It's not the warm and fuzzy type of Christmas movie you would normally expect. While I enjoy those types of films, and will be reviewing some of the classic ones as we near the holiday, I prefer the more unusual Christmas movies, the ones which explore the human condition more than the tinsel on the tree.

In this film the entire story takes place around the time of the holidays, only this time in a German POW Camp, Stalag 17. The time is less than 2 weeks before Christmas of 1944. In this 1953 film directed by Billy Wilder, fellow Director Otto Preminger plays Commandant Klink of Stalag 17, a POW Camp located somewhere in Germany. He is pure Nazi, right to the bone. They couldn't have picked a better actor. The film is based entirely upon the Broadway play of the same name, in which Robert Strauss and Harvey Lembeck, who play the roles of Harry Shapiro and "Animal", appeared. They are both excellent in this screen adaptation.

Someone in the barracks at Stalag 17 is a stoolie. Several men have already died attempting escapes. No one knows who it is, but everyone suspects it to be Sgt. Sefton, played by William Holden, a shrewd black market trader who has fresh eggs for breakfast while his fellow prisoners subsist on gruel. He is not very well liked. He flouts his wealth, mocking the others as "saps."

Overseeing the entire barracks is Sgt. Schultz, (if you're thinking of "Hogan's Hero's", forget it. In this film, Klink and Schultz are both real Nazi's, with no shred of honor, or humor. This is a drama.) He is a cruel and calculating man who masquerades as the men's "friend", but his real purposes are sinister and without merit.

When the men in the barracks gang up on Sefton, and beat him, thinking he is the stoolie, they set off a chain of events which leads to the discovery of the real mole, on Christmas Eve, just in time for a planned escape by several of the prisoners. With the holiday only hours away, someone is about to pay for those who have died, while others are on their way to freedom.

A real surprise twist at the end makes this an excellent film at any time of the year. But now, as Christmas approaches,, the film is somehow more poignant, as we watch these men struggle with their burdens, each one bearing their individual cross, during a time of year which normally holds joy for most.

This film won the Oscar for Best Performance by an Actor in 1954 for William Holden, who initially refused the part. In addition it also won Nominations for Best Supporting Actor for Robert Strauss, as well as a Nomination for Best Director for Billy Wilder. If you've never seen this one, check it out. Here is a clip from one of the lighter moments in the film;

Richard's Coffee Shop - Mooresville

2011-12-01T09:17:00.020-05:00

When I first came to live in North Carolina, about 13 years ago, I got a job working in the town of Mooresville as an Estimator for a local construction company, which was my stock in trade at the time. The office in which I worked was located around the corner from Pat's Gourmet Coffee Shop, where I would sometimes stop in and get something to drink. I noticed that there were always groups of Veterans hanging around the place. Kind of like the malt shop in "Happy Days", only with an older crowd. There was a guest book to sign identifying all of the Veterans in the area who had passed through the shop. I gladly added my name to the list. The place was a mixture between a coffee house and a museum. The history of Pat's Coffee Shop is all on this card to the left. When Richard passed away a few years ago, I naturally thought that this was the end of a very unique place. Quietly, I mourned its passing.

But that was before this year’s 67th Annual Town of Mooresville Thanksgiving Day Parade. I was perambulating down Main Street, kind of walking the parade route, when I spotted a shop I had not seen before. It was like a cross between an antique store and a coffee shop. I was intrigued enough to walk in, and very pleased at what I saw. The whole place is filled to bursting with old uniforms, medals, and the walls are covered with photographs from every conflict since World War One through the current conflicts in the Middle East. All age groups are represented here, and there is a sense of brotherhood in the air as you walk about. It's like coming home.

Apparently, after Richard moved on to his next assignment, his friends and acquaintances from the coffee shop, decided to do what most Veterans do best; carry on. So, they opened a new place, across the street, about 1 block down, naming it "Welcome Home Veterans". It's not a coffee shop anymore, but instead it has been lovingly transformed into a place for the area's Veterans to come and talk, read, and drink coffee. There is always a fresh pot on. Mornings are the busiest, it seems that most of the guys still hear Reveille and respond accordingly. And, as stated on the hand out, the shop also serves as a place for local music on Saturdays, featuring Veterans, and non- Veterans alike, picking and grinnin'. It didn't take too much courage on my part to join the Navy so many years ago. I wasn't doing much else worthwhile. And joining the service opened up the entire world to me. I spent the better part of 10 years roaming around, seeing all the things I had only read of previously. As far as I'm concerned, they did me a favor letting me in. Now, if I can just muster up the courage to haul one of my guitars down there next Saturday.....

"Gilda" with Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford

2011-11-30T00:06:00.008-05:00

I went Christmas shopping yesterday and, as usual, the first thing I bought was a gift for me. "Gilda" is probably the most famous of all Rita Hayworth's films. The story is tight, and Glenn Ford is at his best in this gritty tale of expatriated Americans living in South America at the end of the Second World War. Johnny, played by Glenn Ford, is a drifter and gambler. One night, in Buenos Aires, he wins too much money using loaded dice in a crap game, almost getting killed in the bargain. That's when he meets his benefactor, a vaguely European man by the name of Mundson, played by George Macready, who owns a gambling casino. He invites Johnny to come visit him there.

When Johnny goes to the club he once again tries "his own luck" at the tables, only to be roughed up after winning way too much money once more. Using his wits, he manages to land a job in the casino, which he eventually runs for Munsdon. When the boss leaves for business, Johnny is alone with the casino, realizing for the first time, that his life has taken a turn for the better. But not for long.

When Mundson returns he brings his new bride with him, Gilda, played by Rita Hayworth. This is a shock to Johnny for two reasons; first, he and Mundson have agreed that gambling and women don't mix; and secondly, Johnny and Gilda have been former lovers, apparently having split up in some disastrous fashion. Mundson is not fully aware of this, though he suspects that something lies behind the mutual dislike that these two people have for one another. It doesn't take long for the simmering tensions to come to a head, as the domineering Mundson seemingly takes pleasure in watching Johnny and Gilda in their discomfort.

Mundson has more than the casino to worry about. He has become involved in a cartel, one which controls tungsten, a necessary element in the production of steel. When he double crosses the cartel, he is forced to flee, faking his own death to do so. But he has left behind both the casino and Gilda, plus some unfinished business with Johnny. What happens next will change Johnny and Gilda's lives forever.

Deftly directed by Charles Vidor, based on a story by E.A. Ellington, this is one of those old black and white films which are worth staying up late at night to watch on TV. In addition to the great plot, and acting, Ms. Hayworth puts in some credible dancing during the nightclub scenes, particularly while singing "Put the Blame On Mame", the films signature torch song, which was written by Doris Fisher, and lyricist Allan Roberts. The vocals are not Ms. Hayworth, they are actually sung by Anita Kert Ellis, one of Hollywood's celebrated "ghost singers".

Ms. Hayworth performs this song twice in the film; once during the nightclub scene, and then again, after hours, strumming a guitar while sitting with one of the club's other employees. Here is that scene;

And this is the fully orchestrated nightclub version of the song;