Blogging Without a Plan

You’d think it would be easy to do a short blog like this on a daily basis, but it’s not. Sometimes I stay about 3 or 4 days ahead of schedule, which is why I am often several days behind the news, but somehow I always end up back at a point where I am out of something to say. But, being a verbose person by nature, I feel compelled to post something daily. It wasn’t always that way.

When I began this blog, over 3 years ago, I posted once a week, usually a book review; indeed, that is what this site purports itself to be. But, somehow over the 3 years I have been doing this, I caught the bug, and as a result post each day. Some of the material I post is so bad that this looks easier than it really is.

Oh, I get lucky now and again, with a good story like “The Old Black Man”, or  the one I wrote a few months ago about the Police Gazette, but mostly I just post whatever happens to attract my attention that day. Take today as an example. It’s 7 Pm here in North Carolina, and I had planned on having a book review done for tomorrow, and have actually begun working on it, but, with the grandkids coming on Tuesday night there were things to be done. (Mostly that involved watching Sue get things ready for their visit.)

So, I’m taking it easy on myself today, as usual, and posting this, for what it’s worth. The illustration at the top of the page is actually from the family album. It was done by my Dad, who was a draftsman, which is ironic considering he refused to serve in Korea when called up, but a draftsman he was. He was pretty good at it, too. He drew this the day after I was born. I still remember marveling at it as a kid. It still gives me pleasure to look at.

So, that’s all I got for today. No plan of my own, except to finish the book review for tomorrow. After that it will be a couple of days of winging it while my granddaughters Aliyah and Trinity are here to visit. We’ll be sharing our adventures here a bit. With this blog reaching something like 80 countries, I’m sure that other grandparents will find something of interest in what we do. I’m sure as heck curious myself! Remember, unlike my dad, I’m not working from a plan.

Marina Keegan - A Light in the Darkness

KEEGAN: The Opposite of Loneliness

Marina Keegan '12. Photo by Facebook.
                       

The piece below was written by Marina Keegan '12 for a special edition of the News distributed at the class of 2012's commencement exercises last week. Keegan died in a car accident on Saturday. She was 22.

We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I could say that’s what I want in life. What I’m grateful and thankful to have found at Yale, and what I’m scared of losing when we wake up tomorrow and leave this place.

It’s not quite love and it’s not quite community; it’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this together. Who are on your team. When the check is paid and you stay at the table. When it’s four a.m. and no one goes to bed. That night with the guitar. That night we can’t remember. That time we did, we went, we saw, we laughed, we felt. The hats.

Yale is full of tiny circles we pull around ourselves. A cappella groups, sports teams, houses, societies, clubs. These tiny groups that make us feel loved and safe and part of something even on our loneliest nights when we stumble home to our computers — partner-less, tired, awake. We won’t have those next year. We won’t live on the same block as all our friends. We won’t have a bunch of group-texts.

This scares me. More than finding the right job or city or spouse – I’m scared of losing this web we’re in. This elusive, indefinable, opposite of loneliness. This feeling I feel right now.

But let us get one thing straight: the best years of our lives are not behind us. They’re part of us and they are set for repetition as we grow up and move to New York and away from New York and wish we did or didn’t live in New York. I plan on having parties when I’m 30. I plan on having fun when I’m old. Any notion of THE BEST years comes from clichéd “should haves...” “if I’d...” “wish I’d...”

Of course, there are things we wished we did: our readings, that boy across the hall. We’re our own hardest critics and it’s easy to let ourselves down. Sleeping too late. Procrastinating. Cutting corners. More than once I’ve looked back on my High School self and thought: how did I do that? How did I work so hard? Our private insecurities follow us and will always follow us.

But the thing is, we’re all like that. Nobody wakes up when they want to. Nobody did all of their reading (except maybe the crazy people who win the prizes…) We have these impossibly high standards and we’ll probably never live up to our perfect fantasies of our future selves. But I feel like that’s okay.

We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.

When we came to Yale, there was this sense of possibility. This immense and indefinable potential energy – and it’s easy to feel like that’s slipped away. We never had to choose and suddenly we’ve had to. Some of us have focused ourselves. Some of us know exactly what we want and are on the path to get it; already going to med school, working at the perfect NGO, doing research. To you I say both congratulations and you suck.

For most of us, however, we’re somewhat lost in this sea of liberal arts. Not quite sure what road we’re on and whether we should have taken it. If only I had majored in biology…if only I’d gotten involved in journalism as a freshman…if only I’d thought to apply for this or for that…

What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it’s too late to do anything is comical. It’s hilarious. We’re graduating college. We’re so young. We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.

In the heart of a winter Friday night my freshman year, I was dazed and confused when I got a call from my friends to meet them at EST EST EST. Dazedly and confusedly, I began trudging to SSS, probably the point on campus farthest away. Remarkably, it wasn’t until I arrived at the door that I questioned how and why exactly my friends were partying in Yale’s administrative building. Of course, they weren’t. But it was cold and my ID somehow worked so I went inside SSS to pull out my phone. It was quiet, the old wood creaking and the snow barely visible outside the stained glass. And I sat down. And I looked up. At this giant room I was in. At this place where thousands of people had sat before me. And alone, at night, in the middle of a New Haven storm, I felt so remarkably, unbelievably safe.

We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I’d say that’s how I feel at Yale. How I feel right now. Here. With all of you. In love, impressed, humbled, scared. And we don’t have to lose that.

We’re in this together, 2012. Let’s make something happen to this world.

Rooftop: I generally remain comfortably ensconed about 2 days behind on almost everything these days. But this is one item which I missed, and if you haven't seen or read it yet, I really wanted to share with you. Rather than preface it with any comment, I chose to simply cut and paste it right from the Facebook posting. In it, I believe, are the hopes and dreams of  the entire world. I hope that everyone will read them somewhere, and then try to live them. RIP Marina Keegan, and thank you for the wonderful piece of yourself which you have left behind. Most people live a lifetime without leaving anything at all....

Betty Boop vs. Helen Kane - "I Want to Be Loved by You"

This is Betty Boop doing Helen Kane's hit record "I Want to Be Loved By You". Ms. Kane had introduced the song in Oscar Hammerstein's 1928 show  "Good Boy". She also recorded her version that same year, with much success. She became known as the  "Boop Oop a Doop" Girl, and also was the basis for the cartoon character who would later become known as Betty Boop.  Ms. Kane was only 5 feet tall and slightly plump, which attracted many fans.  She had a round face and big brown eyes, topped by black, curly hair; and her childish voice, with its distinct Bronx dialect, made her an instant hit on Broadway.

Max and Dave Fleischer, my two favorite animators from that era, needed something a bit different for their cartoons, and soon one of their chief animators, Grim Natwick,  created a caricature of Helen Kane. He used the persona of a dog with long ears and a squeaky voice to introduce a character in some cartoons he called he called  "Dizzy Dishes." By 1932 he had lengthened  the ears on the dog and turned her into a slender, narrow waisted woman called "Betty Boop." The cartoons were extremely successful and have endured for more than 7 decades as a staple of American culture. This didn't sit all that well with Ms. Kane, who brought suit against both Paramount and Max Fleischer in 1934 for the lofty sum of $250,000. The charge was unfair competition and wrongful appropriation of her character in the Betty Boop cartoons.

 

It was a very unusual trial, in that the judge would be listening to, and watching, recordings and films of the two litigants, one of whom was a cartoon character. Also summoned as witnesses were singers such as Ann Rotshchild, Margie Hines, Kate Wright, Bonnie Poe, and most notably Mae Questel. There was no jury. This is a photo of Helen Kane. You can see by her appearance that she very closely resembles Betty Boop, with her wide eyes, dark hair and pouting lips. Added to these similarities was the voice, high pitched, and distinctly "New York."

The witnesses all claimed to be the originator of the "Boop Oop a Doop" for which Ms. Boop was known. But further examination revealed that all of the witnesses had performed in this style during the 1920's, albeit with some different variations of the coveted phrase.

As an example, Little Ann Little testified that "Boop Oop a Doop" had begun as "ba da indeo do", which morphed into "bo do de o do" and eventually became "Boop Oop a Doop".

The case dragged on for more than 2 years before an obscure African_American singer known as "Baby Esther" was produced by the defense for "booping" before Helen Kane. Max Fleischer had found an old film of Baby Esther performing, doing a number which contained the phrase "Boop Oop a Doop". When that film was shown to the by then weary judge, he ruled against Ms. Kane, stating that she had failed to prove her singing style to be unique, and therefore Betty Boop was not imitating her in her rendition of the song. Here is Ms. Kane's version of "I Want to Be Loved by You"; you be the judge. Was the judge correct, or just tired of the 2 year lawsuit between Helen Kane and Betty Boop?
 

Mae Questel was the real voice behind Betty Boop. She got the job after winning a talent contest imitating Helen Kane when she was only 17 years old. She went on to do the voiceovers for more than 150 Betty Boop cartoons. She even sold 2 million copies of her version of "The Good Ship Lollipop". In addition to being Betty Boop, Ms. Questel was also the voice of Olive Oyl in the original Popeye cartoons of the 1930's. She also did imitations of Maurice Chevalier, Fanny Brice, Rudy Vallee and Marlene Dietrich. For more about this talented artist, hit this link;

http://www.nytimes.com/1998/01/08/arts/mae-questel-89-behind-betty-boop-and-olive-oyl.html

This Should Scare You.

This should scare you. Conservative radio talk shows have been airing this rant from the Reverend Farrakhan all week long; and the scary part is that they are in AGREEMENT with him on almost every talking point.

No doubt, the good Reverend is the most effective speaker since Adolph Hitler, and therein lies the concern you should have when it comes to the axis of these two theologically different groups. There must be a common purpose at work here. But figuring out just what it is will take more than one viewing of this tirade. And that’s what it is; a tirade.
 

So, as you watch this video, be careful; there may be portions of it with which you think you agree; but tread carefully. There are so many nuances which are really at the core of what he is saying, yet he leads you to the many different doors without ever opening one of them for a closer examination. But, then again, that is just what he does. And he’s been doing it for almost 50 years now.

"Man Made" by Joel Stein (2012)

From the moment that Joel Stein sees the small smudge on his wife’s sonogram, signaling that they are going to have a boy, he is thrown into a panic attack of epic proportions. In reaction to this, and much to his credit, the author sets out to find what it really means to be “a man.” He is not alone in his insecurities about his own manhood. Many men, myself included, have gone to great lengths to discover the true meaning of term, and come up with some surprising conclusions.

In a most entertaining style, Mr. Stein recounts his own insecurities, and then comes up with a novel idea. He will confront his self-doubts by becoming all of the things he thinks he is not.  So, accordingly, he begins his journey into perceived “manhood”, by joining the Boy Scouts for an overnight camping trip; doing a stint of duty as a firefighter; and training with Major League Baseball Star Shawn Green. In addition to these testosterone laden exploits, he manages to find the time to take on Ultimate Fighting Champion Randy Couture; joining a stock firm as a day trader; and also doing some time in Boot Camp for three days with the Army. These are only some of the exploits which the author undertakes in his misguided quest for “manhood.”

For the record, the Fire Captain tells him via e-mail, prior to his tour with the firefighters, “Not to dismiss your entire premise, but none of the activities or skills you plan on doing define becoming a man. A man is honest, kind, and courageous, protects women, is humble, bold, moral, seeks truth, loves children, and fights for what is right.”

While battling to convince himself that he is truly “a man”, he also recounts some humorous adventures with his feminist leaning wife, and explores the societal roots of what we have come to think of as “manhood.” All of this results in a highly readable and entertaining book, which in some ways mirror my own self-doubts as a young man. Indeed, one of the reasons I joined the Navy many years ago mirror the authors own perceptions of himself as being “less than a man.” Some of those doubts can be attributed to a lack of talent in sports, or the lack of a bond formed with one’s father. I can identify with those facets of Mr. Stein’s thoughts.

This book works on so many levels; humor, self-analysis, and introspection all combine in the author’s vibrant and creative style, to bring us face to face with just what it takes to be a man in today’s world. And when all is said and done, this is a very entertaining, and uplifting book.

Doc Watson - "Deep River Blues"

Doc Watson, the veteran country-bluegrass icon from North Carolina, has passed away. There is nothing that I can add to anything you have already read about him; all the stories are true. Three generations of the Watson clan have entertained us, and his grandson carries on beautifully, but we will always miss "Doc" Watson, the man. He embodied the grace of living; building his own home, running the farm, and in between dazzling us all with the sheer joy of his playing. I saw him once; at the North Carolina Fiddlers Convention in 1979. It was also my first experience with pure grain alcohol. Both were memorable moments in my life. Rest in Peace, Doc.

"The Island" - A Work In Progress

This is the latest addition to our backyard. Sue has worked very hard on the landscaping around the patio area, creating a really beautiful place for me to relax and read, listen to music, or play guitar. The sad part is that she seldom gets to use it! She's still working, while I loaf about, enjoying the fruits of her labor. She never complains, though I am sure there are times she would like to choke me into silence.

And, here below, is something which I have always wanted, but was unwilling to spend the $100, or more, which it would cost. Sue came home with this from a local Farmer's Market on Saturday. There is a woman there named Mona, who sells all kinds of trees and plants. She has a green house in which she works her magic. Sue picked this beautiful plant up for the amazing price of $10. Mona warned her that it needed to come indoors for the winter, with plenty of sun. So, it will be going home to Mona's greenhouse each winter, free of charge.  Now, that's a bargain!