Paul does last minute check of Ringo, Note he is still wearing sandals.
Paul still wearing sandals
From the other side.
Paul came back for a photo session for "Paul is Live" , a play on words because there were supposed "clues" in the original session that were used to further the myth of his being dead.
This is a picture of my wife taken by me at one of the happier moments in my life. She went with me to an Obama rally in Birmingham where we both actually were lucky enough to shake hands with him. I love this picture taken before he spoke. I never should have any doubt about how much she loves me just looking at this. I was so proud to have her there.
When I first worked in a library I volunteered and was allowed to shelve books based on a test of the Dewey decimal system, or basically my knowledge of math and decimal points. One didn't really have to know the Dewey system, just which number followed which. Soon, the guy in Reference, Barry Benson, decided he could use me in the reference section. This began my long association with Reference work. When I was invited to become a paid employee, the only question I was asked was whether I had a reliable way to work. I said "Yes." and I was hired. I became a "Reference Page" and learned all about the workings of the reference department.
At various times throughout my career I would be stationed in reference. Even when I was in Circulation I would be used to relieve people in Reference for breaks and lunch hours. As time went on, I got better and better at answering reference questions. Unfortunately, I began to mistrust the answers. It wasn't that I was giving answers any different than others. I would always leave the tough questions for librarians who had training. Yet, I was often less happy with their answer than the one I had briefly researched before deciding the question should be referred upwards.It is surprising how a overly perfectionist nature like mine is not suited to reference work.
Later in my career I was an actual Reference Librarian 2. At this time I had even more reason to ask the question of what truth there was in truth. I will tell that story someday, when I have the stomach for it, but for now just know that I had severe misgivings.
Religion has been in my life since I was young. At many times in my life I have had reason to also doubt this way of thinking. But certain experiences compel me to believe in my God. The recent news article that I posted on another blog about vitamins being unhealthy is typical of the struggle of limited human beings to discover what is true. It doesn't really matter if you blame this new truth on scientists who disagree with each other or the media outlets (including book publishers) which print things for money and audience.
In the end no one can be trusted for precious truth. And there is only one way I see out of this dilemma for myself personally. I must find some overriding truth that is beyond science, beyond what I learned as a child when I fully believed in the concept of truth, and beyond even what mistakes I may be making in my belief structure now.
From there, the answer is easy and obvious. Refer it to a higher authority.
All good things must come to an end. But for now....
not this blog!! I've been variously busy with many things, Facebook experimentation, figuring out how to do a new evolving blog on Television, problems problems problems. But, I promise I am here to stay. Short format doesn't cut it but it was interesting trying on Facebook and I did influence a few more people than I will here on these dusty blogs. But while influencing people is all well and good, these blogs are more sympathetic with the way I want to write. But, take heart, maybe people don't need influencing anymore because they are actually protesting things that I have mercilessly, endlessly blogged on about in Michael's Aimless Blog. Honestly, though, anyone reading as much about economics as I was could hardly miss that "income inequality" was the central issue. That one wasn't too tough.
I must sadly announce two more blogs will make their appearance. A moment of silence for the world before I became obsessed... I cannot figure how to do all the things I need to do without them, so I will be starting the "Meadowview" blog. The first entries were published, here on this blog, I believe, under the heading "Meadowview Project." So you've read them already, right? :) Nothing to see here, move along.
I morphed Torpedo Sandwich of Truth into my personal blog which is now Tomato Sandwich of Truth. It is nonsensical but nonseasonal and tastes the same throughout the year.
And you thought that was the second new blog. No, I realize I need a short subject blog/news blog which was the way I began Torpedo Sandwich of Truth as an experiment.
So, the extremely sad rundown which shows I have nothing better to do with my life is:
Michael's TV Warehouse - a blog about all things television, which will eventually include more an more of my interesting videotapes on CNN and not so interesting ones on the Beatles. Sound backwards? Well, you'll see if you read before it gets taken down. ) Actually I do have a lot of stuff on the Beatles not on YouTube so this could be of interest to someone. I have various clips of commercials and things long forgotten, but alas mostly Beatles and CNN backhaul feeds, you know... the fun behind the scenes stuff.
Meadowview: memories of my childhood mixed in with whatever false memories I have of my childhood.
Tomato Sandwich of Truth: Originally my short subject blog, now my personal blog. Personal, I said, why are you even interested? Move along...
These pictures were taken with a small Polaroid Swinger camera I received for Christmas one year.
This picture is of the flooding street in front of our apartment. The street used to flood all the time. We had a Volkswagon Beetle. Dad would call the insurance company each time it flooded. Later, if it looked like rain, we often moved the car to the end of the street where it was too high to flood
This is Henry Findley (eating) and Greg Plyler who lived in the apartments. Henry often organized football and was a pool lifeguard for a while.
This is a picture of some of us kids playing Monopoly. From left to right are Greg Plyler, Mike McDowell, Don Ricks (an adult with a terrible lisp. he is watching professional wrestling on his small TV, unseen here. Mr. Ricks did a lot of things with us kids. He was an odd man.), and Ricky McPherson.
This is my niece Debbie. This was the small tree in our yard. There was a larger tree to the right. In the background over her shoulder is a tree that I am very familiar with. Later, when I was a teen, I used to sit under this tree late at night, against the brick wall, and listen to "Beaker Street" from some far away station in Little Rock, Ark. I would stay up late into the night and listen on my little transister radio to "underground" music. Across the street, is the area that contained the pool. If you look carefully you can see evergreen bushes. This marks the fence that went around the pool. The fence is also visible. Debbie was a beautiful little girl and is now a very beautiful lady. I am two years older than Debbie.
This is "Swanzy" who worked at the "Handy Andy" convenience store next to the gas station on the corner of Court Street and Delano. Behind the gas station was a large mountain of tires. We used to play on this mountain of tires, which was infested with mosquitos at a certain time of year. I remember learning that lesson very well.
This is my father reading my Mad magazine. Behind him is the air conditioner in the window and the back door to the right. Mother had beautiful curtains on the back door. The wall has the familiar plant holders on it, and behind this wall was the kitchen.
This is my father sitting with my nephew Scott. Scott was holding my cat, which did not like to be held. And Dad is holding Fritz, Scott's Dachshund. I'm not sure who named "Fritz" but I'll guess it was Mickey, Scott's father. Of course, it is a German name for a German hound. I'm also fairly certain this was the Christmas I received my camera. :)
This is my father sleeping on the bed. After retiring, Dad drove a taxi at night. He would often be sleeping like this in the daytime in his work clothes.
This is my Mother. She is probably in Illinois in this picture standing in front of tomato plants, I believe. She was very healthy at this point. She is wearing a pair of sandals I remember so well.
Holy heck! Beaker Street was vastly important. I listened to it for years and years until FM started playing album oriented rock, just like it says in the article. WHHY-FM was what I listened to after that, later to become Y-102. No wonder I have the tastes I do in music. Beaker Street was one of the first underground radio broadcasts. That is amazing.
It has been a strange journey. I never felt so disorganized on a Disney Cruise, ever. This was all my fault by covering my eyes to all the information I could have researched and it was all to my pleasure. There were so, so many things to explore. I'm literally seeing the world in a new way.
There was a preponderance of kids that we have not seen before, but we love kids so they are usually more precious than in the way. The ship was gleaming from port to stern. There is not an improvement I have ever thought of that hasn't been incorporated into the design, down to the smallest detail. It was as if they had addressed every comment card ever left, and then, taking all that into consideration, imagineered into the future beyond one's wildest dreams.
The new Animator's Palate restaurant is simply the best restaurant I have ever visited in my entire life. It is the show piece that awed me beyond words. The magic was so incredible that I just cannot describe the sensation. Our table was oval that setting for our large group was spot on perfect. We interacted so well and the room interacted with us so well. It was one of my top Disney experiences, I will never forget it.
While the surprise of Animator's Palate was heightened by the fact that I did not research beforehand, finding my way around the ship was chaotic. I'm not sure where the happy medium lies with research here. I found myself constantly surprised by nooks and crannies. Artwork would occasionally animate when I did not expect it. Surprise and wonder are good things and are rare in our world, so I believe I did the right thing by stepping aboard the ship ignorant of almost everything.
The Aquaduck water slide lived up to it's billing. The food was fantastic. The stage shows were so full of talented people. With expectations dancing on the head of a pin, the new show, "Believe," did not disappoint and instead dazzled so much you had to argue with yourself whether the previous signature show "Dreams" might be better, or might not. I prefer the message of Dreams, by just a bit, but it was so nice personally to see new production numbers from Mary Poppins and, glory be, The Princess and the Frog. Princess Tiana dazzled. (Ok, Ok, I do have a favorite princess and it is Tiana.)
I could go on and on about the ship and the joy and the magic. I could go on and on about our four days. The Dream was simply the most beautiful and well appointed ship in the world. I do not have to see other ships. THIS one is the best in the world.
Finishing out the Beatles theme on all my blogs: This version of Country Dreamer turned out to be a revelation to me. The reason this song was not a favorite of mine before was that in it's polished state I just accepted it as a country song. What this version reveals is the entirely British tongue in cheek nature of the parody of the southern or country music. It also respects the music deeply. It is a game Paul was playing in composing it. It strengthens a conception that I have had for a while that Paul doesn't write to make hits, he writes and performs for the pure joy of it, releasing music that he really doesn't care if we understand or get it. It is a trait of of many artists as well as The Beatles and solo Beatles efforts from the time they became so famous.
Well the witches stare with their limbs akimbo
silhouettes of statues up in the window
call me to come here with a crooked crescendo
but i don't
devotees dance among the pantomime on the promenade
into a tabernacle on the lawn
but i don't follow
because she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all mine
yeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmm
midnight moved across the people's park
and i fled the fire like a spinning spark
up onto a porch in the dark
she was waiting right there for me
she knows that my hands are empty
as i go past the mothers of envy
and i don't have to fumble in the dark for my keys
i believe she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all mine
yeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmm
the pupils gather in the yard
around the pulpit made of cards
and waited for their leader's words
but his words didn't make much sense
his mouth spat out a fist of daggers
and his tongue swirled in a southern swagger
and i looked at all the people gathered
but they were all in a trance
and she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all mine
yeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmm
i was thrown before the court of canes
tossed my soul to the furnace flames
where all my heros had been slain, exiled, or put in prison
because they rose above the mess
and because their power posed a threat
and because they spoke of something else
when everybody else didn't
the music fills the space between
the deities and the prophecies
of our bodies pressed seamlessly
silent in the shade
she looks at me so fearlessly
and i take it all too seriously
but it all becomes so clear to me
and makes me understand
I want to sit back in a nice hot bath of Blogspot. It's the same old thing out there: people fighting with people. They just can't see why their football fandom or patrotism or religion or stand on healthcare doesn't entitle them to hate other human beings. I like my reality here with the warm water soaking, the day behind me, and empty page ahead.
Well, I saw a bird today --- flying from a bush and the
wind blew it away.
And the black-eyed mother sun scorched the butterfly
at play --- velvet veined.
I saw it burn.
With a wintry storm-blown sigh, a silver cloud blew
right on by.
And, taking in the morning, I sang --- O Requiem.
Well, my lady told me, ``Stay.''
I looked aside and walked away along the Strand.
But I didn't say a word, as the train time-table blurred
close behind the taxi stand.
Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window.
Fading in the traffic; watched her go.
And taking in the morning, heard myself singing ---
O Requiem.
Here I go again.
It's the same old story.
Well, I saw a bird today --- I looked aside and walked
away along the Strand.
honoring http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albert_Szent-Gy%C3%B6rgyi with a little retro orange and citrus fruit crate design. It honors Hungarian Albert Szent-György who discovered Vitamin C and must have saved countless people from disease and death.
I started my day off with the A&E documentary on 9/11 and it made me realize how thankful I am for everything I have been given. I remember being on the phone with Wanda ten years ago and weeping uncontrollably when the first tower collapsed on television. We knew it had fallen before CNN understood. I was overcome completely and had to put the phone down. I paced the floor and cried. I finally came back to the phone and could barely get out the words "We just witnessed thousands of people die." We also were cognizant of the firemen that must have been in the building. I remember saying "They need to get every one of those firemen out of that second building. They need to just run." I was very stressed at that and felt helpless. When the second tower came down, it was much clearer and more obvious on television. It just took my breath away. There was nothing to do but cry. It was over.
Wanda's and my 5th wedding anniversary was about a week ago. I am blessed beyond belief, no matter how many aches and pains I have.
There was a man in the documentary I saw today covered in thick dust, dust that had brought many to the ground coughing and hacking, in the dark eerie smoke that surrounded, this man said as he went by the person with the camera "I'm 69 but I can still run." I'm not sure why but I found his spirit very infectious.
The documentary was very overwhelming itself. It showed the story without narration. It showed the moments that we don't want to think about. It showed the helplessness in people's faces and the bravery of the government workers who tried to do the impossible. It showed the defeat they felt. It showed the way things appeared to ordinary people on the streets of New York.
I have to remind myself that there are other tragedies that are personal like this, tragedies where those involved are the only ones who understand the full extent of the moment. I have to remind myself of the innocent people in Iraq who died by the hundreds of thousands.
I felt it important that I relive September 11, 2001 with all of my emotion. Thank you to the producers of this documentary. It has to be the most compelling television I have ever seen.
This is my First Grade class. Click on the pictures to get the full size scan. You might have to click again depending on whether your browser is set to resize. These are big scans. (I will get this done better later but I have limited computer capability at the moment. )
Miss Warren is the teacher. I am the only student holding my writing tablet up. I'm sure I did not follow instructions. I was creative even then. Angela Browder is in the back row, second from the right. I believe Steve Huffman is in this picture and I believe him to be in the front table second from the right. I think Larry (I'm not sure what his last name is but will find out because he is related to my sister-in-law) is on the first table, second from the right. I believe Jenny Welch is in this picture and is the one at the closest head of the first table showing her beautiful legs. :) It is either Nicky or Dicky McPherson that is on the first table 4th from left. Any help with the names on the kids in this picture would be a great help. I used to remember all of their names all through grade school. Feel free to comment below this post.
My dad used to listen to this kind of music. It was a kind of "high fidelity" type of music. The joy of listening was often in the clearness or fidelity of the music. For more on exotica, which I have secretly collected for some time because no one would understand, here is wikepedia:
Martin Denny was really responsible for the popularity of the format. Les Baxter came before him but Martin Denny took it to new realms and coined the name "exotica." It is a fantasy of what life might be like in far off places, all from the perception of America in the 1950's. It is innocent yet it adopts native instruments to create some American brand or idea of the music from far away places. In it's inauthenticity, it is like a book on Tarzan that delves into the realms of a mysterious land but makes up things where things would be more interesting that way. Animal sounds are concocted and "sung" by members of the band. Instruments are used to sound like animals and are played like instruments we already understand.. Instruments are played in ways that the native population of the land they came from would never play them. To me it is all rather relaxing from a period of time when we thought everything was under control and the world was just like us, just exotic.
I collect all kinds of this music because I know my Dad had at least 2 albums of it. And, therefore, despite all the music my dad and I did not have in common, we did have this in common. It is still hip, to me. Thank you Dad.
Finally we decided to do a Disney Wall, or more like a Don Williams wall. The Pooh is actually a hand drawn original I was lucky enough to receive on the last cruise. The others are signed lithographs by Don "Ducky" Williams who is always inspirational and fun to see.
Amiable Blog post 101: although, I have to admit it's much easier to be amiable than aimless, so this is not much of an accomplishment. ;)
Because posting here is as easy as posting a picture, here is a picture that perhaps is as common as dust on a windshield to some, but here, I found it a little work of art. Retro-travel font and subject, art nouveau colors, just beautiful.
Ian Anderson at his home studio - with string quartet
"Life's a Long Song"
When you're falling awake and you take stock of the new day,
and you hear your voice croak as you choke on what you need to say,
well, don't you fret, don't you fear,
I will give you good cheer.
Life's a long song.
If you wait then your plate I will fill.
As the verses unfold and your soul suffers the long day,
and the twelve o'clock gloom spins the room,
you struggle on your way.
Well, don't you sigh, don't you cry,
lick the dust from your eye.
Life's a long song.
We will meet in the sweet light of dawn.
As the Baker Street train spills your pain all over your new dress,
and the symphony sounds underground put you under duress,
well don't you squeal as the heel grinds you under the wheel.
A friend of mine in Hungary sent this video link to me. It seems to be just a bit more people oriented than our similar Rose Bowl Parade, focused as it is around a sporting event. I'm not sure why this Hungarian approach appeals to me more. Perhaps it is the length of the event that makes the difference, perhaps it is the carnival type of production. Although our Mardi Gras is famous, it seems to be centered more around prurient and dark themes. This is a nice video about a great, proud, and historically enduring people.
I'm going to make a chicken gumbo
Toss some sausage in the pot
I'm going to flavor it with okra
Cayenne pepper to make it hot
You know life is what we make of it
So beautiful or so what
I'm going to tell my kids a bedtime story
A play without a plot
Will it have a happy ending?
Maybe yeah, maybe not
I tell them life is what you make of it
So beautiful or so what
So beautiful
So beautiful
So what
I'm just a raindrop in a bucket
A coin dropped in a slot
I am an empty house on Weed Street
Across the road from the vacant lot
You know life is what you make of it
So beautiful or so what
Ain't it strange the way we're ignorant
How we seek out bad advice
How we jigger it and figure it
Mistaking value for the price
And play a game with time and love
Like pair of rolling dice
So beautiful
So beautiful
So what
Four men on the balcony
Overlooking the parking lot
Pointing at a figure in the distance
Dr. King has just been shot
And the sirens long melody
Singing Savior Pass Me Not
Ain't it strange the way we're ignorant
How we seek out bad advice
How we jigger it and figure it
Mistaking value for the price
And play a game with time and love
Like a pair of rolling dice
So beautiful
So beautiful
So beautiful
Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol link and Talk of the Town by Jack Johnsonlink are the two songs that originally began my second great period of interest in music. My original interest was in The Beatles and this group of people remain of great influence to my life. At the same early age I also became interested in groups like Pink Floyd, Yes, and Jethro Tull. Of those three Jethro Tull still somewhat, in the personage of Ian Anderson, aligns with my interest in singer/songwriters. My best friend introduced me to Bob Dylan, the single best modern singer/songwriter I know of. I think I posted one song by him, Everything is Broken, link that I found on a Catholic site (original sin, I think, though Dylan is/was variously Jewish and born again. :) ) Apparently, Dylan's publishers had thought that this video post was OK but all others for that song on YouTube had to be withdrawn. Perhaps that one link was just oddly Dylanesque enough.
Later, I also liked other singer/songwriters like James Taylor and Paul Simon. Of the new music I like today, I don't bother enough with the details behind a song but just enjoy it. For instance, early on I liked James Taylor's You've Got A Friend but I liked it mostly because Carol King wrote it, a wonderful singer/songwriter herself. I admire James Taylor for never failing to point out in concert that possibly the biggest hit in his career was written by someone else. But these days I just listen to the music and don't bother with details about who wrote the song or the history of the song. One exception was k.d. lang's Olympic performance of Hallelujah. I definitely looked up the song writer, Leonard Cohen, of that one. Here is a clip from YouTube of another non-Olympic version:
As we gaze over the riots in London, the site of the next "peace" event of the Olympics, I marvel at a world that would so restrict availability of the Olympic video version of kd lang's Hallelujah just so that it could be sold for profit. But it is so.
When Richard Nixon resigned the presidency, his emotions were overwhelming and quite affecting to a young boy who had followed the Watergate hearings day after day on television. Richard Nixon had never shown this human side to me. To the contrary, he had seemed invinceable, strong, an enemy. This was really the beginning of my deep personal interest in politics, yet never again would I see such a dramatic emotional moment as that good-bye speech. Regret, sorrow, tears, and an off the cuff speech drenched with humanity. Then of course there was the impromptu lining up of the White House staff to create the traditional campaign handshaking line. But, oh, the emotion and the tears on their faces as the consumate politician said goodbye to each and every one, working the long familiar line of wellwishers one last time.
As I was waiting along the same kind of traditional line to see and shake hands with Barack Obama, I actually had the rememberance of that morning in 1974, and in my head, this James Taylor song:
One of my favorite movie memories. Hanging on a rope ladder from the Batcopter, Batman is dragging on his leg a shark that has jumped out of the water to attack him. It is in that original Batman movie, the one before Batman became serious and dark, when Robin actually says "Holy Mackerel" and saves Batman by handing him the Bat Shark Repellent he carries down the rope on his utility belt.
Later this classic dialog:
BATMAN: Hmmm, pretty fishy what happened to me.
GORDON: You mean where there's a fish, there could be... a Penguin.
ROBIN: But wait! It happened at sea. See? "C" for Catwoman!
BATMAN: Yet an exploding shark was pulling my leg!
GORDON: The Joker!
O'HARA: It all adds up to a sinister riddle. Riddle-er! Riddler?
Those were the days for screen writers; plenty of time to get the laundry done now. :)
Years later around 2001 or so, this classic email picture showed up in every one's email box as if it were, Holy Mackerel, real...
It was forwarded unquestioningly by millions, surely. It was everywhere. And here is where I have questions about the ability of us all to understand reality enough to make viable choices in a society based on democracy. Sure, I can watch some reality shows and ask myself "People believe this?" But the real question should be "When we watch or read the news, do we the understand the subtleties?" I know I spent most of my life learning these things myself. And I still surprise myself on what an idiot I can be.
Basically I'm worried about the giant corporations with money to spend on the brightest minds. This power is used to influence government and the power of bribing officials directly with money has been elevated to the level of freedom of the speech. They have "direct democracy," influencing specific laws that affect their companies. Lobbyists can make sure the companies have daily influence. I have a vote every few years or so and vote for a representative, never directly on a single issue or law. Our minds, voting every so often, against those bright folks who spend their whole day thinking and researching what will increase their company's profits, voting every legislative day.
So, has our representative democracy jumped the shark? :) Or was that a theme for a Sex in the City episode? I can't remember.
I can no longer ignore the Brooksley Born phenomenon. Six months after I wrote that blog entry I am still getting over 100 hits a month on that one entry. By the way, no other entries are successful. :)
So... I'm guessing this might help my blog numbers:
Jack Johnson's Talk of the Town was my first new song in this later part of my life which I loved so much that I decided to listen to more and more newer type songs, which I term "coffeehouse" after the station I was listening to. This still remains my favorite Jack Johnson song, and it still moves me.
Posted earlier in a different version, here is a version from AOL sessions.
Feeling better and better. Maybe I'm at the crossroads...
I realized. in my other posts, that I'm relearning long forgotten economic theory bit by bit. I'm basically familiar with theory, it's the details that I have forgotten so badly. I really did have to study harder than anyone else to be able to remember it during the test and not be nervous taking the test. Quite a combo... :)
Anyway, I'm feeling groovy...
52nd Street Bridge (attribution unknown, sorry, I lost it)
This is just a beautiful picture, I left it oversized.
This song has been in my head since the last post. Since it had very little to do with the post I decided not to post it. But this song has been running around in my head and I even found myself humming it at innapropriate times where I work. So here it is in a much better version than that released on the radio. Much of the appeal of James Taylor had always been in live peformance. My love for him grew immeasurably after seeing him in performance long ago and far away:
