Monday, April 8, 2024

"The Grandfather Clock" by Henry Clay Work (1876)


 Aside from "Jack Jumped Over the Candlestick" one of the first songs I remember learning was in Kindergarten was the one about the Grandfather Clock. For some odd reason I woke in the middle of the night with part of the song running through my head. And though I immediately recalled the whole story, I had to look up the full lyrics. I only remember learning part of the song in school.

American songwriter Henry Clay Work, who had written the Civil War song "Marching Through Georgia", wrote the clock song while traveling in England in 1876. He had stopped at The George Hotel in Piercebridge, County Durham, England. He was very taken by the "long case clock" in the lobby of the hotel. 

Asking about the clock, he was told that it had only two owners. After the first owner died, the clock became unreliable, and then, when the second owner died, the clock ceased working altogether. This story was the genisis for the song. 

The sheet music for the song sold over 1 million copies and became very popular in the days before recordings. It was sung in bars and parlors all over the world. The earliest known recording of the song was in 1905 by The Edison Quartet on one of those wax cylinders.

After World War Two the song even became popular in Japan, leading to an animation of the lyrics. It also forever changed the term "long case clock" into what we now commonly call "Grandfather Clocks." Such is the power of a good song.

You can find a few versions on The internet, in case you don't recall the melody. I'm not sure I ever heard a record of it. Rather I remember my Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Gerber, at P.S. 197 in Brooklyn, playing the song, which is where I first learned the lyrics. In my mind's eye there is a piano involved, though I'm not really sure there was a piano in the classroom. She used a stick, or pointer, to augment the "tick tock, tick tock" in the song. 

"The Grandfather Clock" by Henry Clay Work (1876)

"My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tick, tick, tick), His life seconds numbering,
(tick, tick, tick, tick), It stopp'd short — never to go again —When the old man died.

In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy.
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tick, tick, tick), His life seconds numbering,
(tick, tick, tick, tick), It stopp'd short — never to go again —When the old man died.

My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire —
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place — not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side.
But it stopp'd short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tick, tick, tick), His life seconds numbering,
(tick, tick, tick, tick), It stopp'd short — never to go again —When the old man died.

It rang an alarm in the dead of the night —
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight —
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering
(tick, tick, tick, tick), His life seconds numbering,
(tick, tick, tick, tick), It stopp'd short — never to go again —When the old man died."

Thursday, April 4, 2024

Reaching Out


Reaching out you take a chance;
on the hand that might touch you.
Reaching out to dance a dance
there's one reaching for you, too.

Good and bad, there's a hand
can stop you in your tracks.
But pull away, you'll never know
that hand was reaching back.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

The Physical Relationship of Pi to the Area of a Circle


Today is Pi Day. I know I've posted this before, but as a former Navigator and Full Charge Estimator of Earthworks and Utilities, I am proud of this piece of work. I did this many years ago and framed it. I simply wanted to understand why Pi is Pi. And no one could tell me. So, I drew it out to understand it.

I also wanted an easier way to compute the area of circles. To this day I simply use the factor of .785 to arrive at the total area of any circle. I divided the area into 100 squares and counted the squares inside of the circle, using a 6" round piece of pipe for an example. Then I counted the squares outside of the circle.

I then used .5 ft. X .5 ft. (to represent the 6" pipe) X .785 (the total of squares inside the circle). Not a great discovery, but it satisfied my curiosity and sped up my calculations. Having failed Math all through High School, I have always been amazed at having taught myself Trigonometry and Advanced Algebra. At sea,  using a Sextant, I needed those skills. The same applied to Surveying and Estimating.

But nothing has ever given me the satisfaction of this piece of paper, which is framed and hangs on my wall, next to my Third Mates License and the Engineering Certifications in two different states, with no college degree. You see, it wasn't that I couldn't learn math. It was that the people attempting to teach me simply didn't know how to reach me. And that, as Paul Harvey used to say, is the Rest of the Story.....

Happy Pi Day to all. 🙂

P.S. Last night I made a startling discovery. My diagram, hand drawn just as it appears here, is on a web site showing the various "official" visual explanations of Pi. All advanced and carefully laid out. 

The difference between mine and the others is astonishing. While all the others require some advanced knowledge of mathematics, mine is the only one which can be understood by a 6th grader. 

That it is included with the others, is like an honor for me. That is exactly what I was trying to create. You can view the whole layout, with all the other diagrams, by using the following link. Just look for the yellow handrawn one. 

https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=483c85010fc377d1&sxsrf=ACQVn08yn_NpVuWevqVdtLXi6CuBIwJ4Lw:1710468678145&q=images+of+the+physical+relationship+of+pi+to+the+area+of+a+circle&tbm=isch&source=lnms&prmd=ihvsnbmtz&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi49davmPWEAxWxKFkFHSTbDMQQ0pQJegQICxAB&biw=1600&bih=699&dpr=1.2

Sunday, March 10, 2024

Two Tough Guys - Bogart and Gabin


One of my favorite Humphrey Bogart stories is of the time in 1942, when Bogart matched the antics of an unnamed French Resistance fighter, who may or may not have been the French actor Jean Gabin, often referred to as "the French Bogart." His most famous film was 1937's "Pepe le Moko", in which he plays a French jewel thief hiding in the labyrinth of the Casbah in Algiers. The film was remade in the United States as "Algiers" in 1938 starring Charles Boyer. It was also Hedy Lamarr's first film.


Gabin joined General de Gaulle's Free French Forces and earned the Medaille Militaire and a Croix de Guerre for fighting with the Allies in North Africa. He was also part of the French force which fought to liberate Paris. In between he was in Hollywood making "Moontide" with Ida Lupino, Claude Raines and Thomas Mitchell in 1942, the time during which this story takes place.

The event took place at a Hollywood dinner party with Bogart, when the Frenchman approached Bogart and challenged him to "Do smething tough."

Bogart responded with, "You've got the wrong guy." The Frenchman retorted with, "I can eat glass." He then proceeded to eat his wine glass. Bogart applauded. The Frenchman then added, "I can also eat razor blades." Reaching into his pocket he produced two of them and put them in his mouth. After that he told Bogart, "If you cannot do that, let us match drinks."

Bogart, now on more familiar ground, proceeded to mix a concoction of brandy, Creme de Menthe, Scotch, Gin, Bourbon, Vermouth and Champagne. The two matched one another drink for drink.

At the conclusion of this contest the Frenchman said, "Well, I still do not think you are so tough. You cannot eat the glass." Bogart's response was a slurred, "Oh, I can so." He then proceeded to eat his own wine glass, beginning at the top and working his way down to the stem. Blood gushed from his mouth.

"Well", said the Frenchman, "I guess you are all right at that! We are both very tough men. Come, let us go and insult the women together. That takes real courage!"

I have run across this story several times, most notably in Joe Hyam's "Bogie: The Biography of Humphrey Bogart." That book was authorized by Lauren Bacall. Another book which relates the tale is "Tough Without a Gun" by Stefan Kanfer. Both are well written and contain good Source Notes.

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

My First Car - 1973


This was my first car. The photos are from on line, which is why the interior shot is blue. It was the late summer of 1973. It was a 1964 Ford Galaxy 500 with the dual tailpipes. Paid $75 for it. I was living just outside Cleveland on the shore of Lake Erie in Timberlake, a town of 300 people. In the evenings I would sit in the car and listen to 770 AM WABC out of New York.


It was a big boat and battleship grey. I had no license and no insurance was required. The speed limit on Rt 80 was 90 on some stretches until the National Speed Limit of 55 kicked in. Gas went from 35 cents a gallon to 65 cents at the Arco station. I got about 12 miles per gallon.


I still have the plate, though the car was abandoned on the side of Rt 80 when the engine seized up on the first few miles back to Brooklyn. I was 19 years old.

 

Saturday, March 2, 2024

"Hill Country Girl" - Will Kimbrough (2010)



Corn flower blue were her eyes and her hair
Spinning gold in the hot summer wind.
Soft were the words which she used when she told me
She wanted to still be my friend.

I said don't misunderstand me
She said I don't as she turned
Into the haze of the twilight and walked
down the road without shame or concern.

Her name was Martha and her mama died
the year before, she'd been sick for awhile.
I helped her Daddy that summer with work
on the farm, she was shy with her smile.

One night we talked until sun up
The next night we kissed until the dawn
These days I dream of my Martha
'til daylight comes hard now that Martha is gone.

Her daddy was quiet like men get to be
But his eyes said he knew everything.
One afternoon he put his arm round my shoulder
And said don't get hurt son you're still green.

That night I asked her to marry,
she laughed out loud until she wept
She said you saved my heart with your kindness and comfort
and care but I will not be kept

Some say she ruined me forever
Left me heartbroke and stubborn with pride.
Some say she made me the loner I am
I say her memory keeps me alive.

Now I keep up with her as she moves through the world
With a grace I admire from afar.
From Austin to Nashville to LA and back
to the farm in her dirty old car.

Her eyes are still my horizon
and her smile still a fine rope of pearls.
I can't  help it I guess though it's made me a mess
I'm in love with the hill country girl.

And though she don't love me yet I will never regret
All my love for the hill country girl.


Thursday, February 29, 2024

The Weeping Star

 

 

See the lonely weeping star,
he's sad because it rains.
He'll have to wait another night
until he shines again.....

My Faith is very simple,
and isn't very loud.
It's knowing that there's always,
Stars above the clouds.....

Sleep well........❣