Archives for 2005

“We all share in a shattering duality—and by this I don’t mean that soggy, superficial split that one so often sees: the kind of thing, for example, where the gangster sobs uncontrollably at an old Shirley Temple movie. I mean the fundamental schism that Newman referred to when he spoke of man being forever involved in the consequences of some ‘terrible, aboriginal calamity’; every day in every man there is this warfare of the parts. And while all this results in meanness and bitterness and savagery enough, God knows, and while only a fool can look around him and smile serenely in unwatered optimism, nevertheless the wonder of it all is to me the frequency with which kindness, the essential goodness of man does break through, and as one who has received his full measure of that goodness, I can say that for me, at least, it is in the long succession of these small, redemptive instants, just as much as in the magnificence of heroes, that the meaning and the glory of man is revealed….”

Edwin O’Connor, The Edge of Sadness

Speaking of dem memes, hometown bloggers Coudal Partners, who always have something cool up their sleeves, have kind of outdone themselves now. They have audio recordings of people reading their favorite short poems as left on an answering service. You can call in too, operators are waiting, but have your poem ready. I’ve done it and anxiously wait to see whether GMH and I will make the cut…if we do, you’ll be the first to know.

LATER: I should add that the current poem, Thomas Hardy’s “Neutral Tones,” happens to be Maud Newton’s favorite. Perhaps Maud will contribute to the project–I think it would be fascinating to hear multiple readings of the same poem by different readers, especially given that all of the readers involved in Poetry After The Beep can be assumed to have a strong attachment to their poems.

I have my orders from Our Girl, so here goes with the Meme of Four. All answers are guaranteed to have come straight off the top of my head:

Four jobs you’ve had in your life: bank teller, dance-band bass player, magazine editor, newspaper editorial writer.

Four movies you could watch over and over: Rio Bravo, You Can Count on Me, Out of the Past, Doc Hollywood.

Four places you’ve lived: Smalltown, Kansas City, Champaign-Urbana, New York City.

Four TV shows you love to watch: Gilmore Girls, Buffy reruns, What’s My Line?, black-and-white episodes of Dragnet.

Four places you’ve been on vacation: Fallingwater, Branson, Gatlinburg, Isle au Haut.

Four websites you visit daily: Maud Newton, in the wings, The American Scene, Modern Art Notes.

Four of your favorite foods: smoked salmon, chocolate sorbet, fresh mozzarella, really good hot dogs.

Four places you’d rather be: Good Enough to Eat, the Phillips Collection, the Jazz Standard, the Seth Peterson Cottage.

Someone to hold you too close,

Someone to hurt you too deep,

Someone to sit in your chair,

To ruin your sleep.

Someone to crowd you with love,

Someone to force you to care,

Someone to make you come through,

Who’ll always be there,

As frightened as you

Of being alive.

Stephen Sondheim, “Being Alive” (music by Sondheim)

A reader writes:

You mentioned in a recent post that you were laughing at Diane Keaton in The Godfather, Part II. By any chance, was it the scene were she admits to having had an abortion?

Yes, it was that bit precisely.

Her overwrought performance in that scene is jarring; I feel as if I’m suddenly watching a John Waters film. I can better picture Divine or Mink Stole screaming, “I had an abortion! An abortion, Michael!”

Hee hee. The wonder of it is that her shrieky performance makes not the slightest dent in that absolute battleship of a great film.

But this one appealed: courtesy of Girish, the Meme of Four.

Without further ado, and very much off the top of my head:

Four jobs you’ve had in your life: antique store shopgirl, technical writer, assistant editor, managing editor. Yes, most of these are practically the same job.

Four movies you could watch over and over: Out of Sight, The Lady Eve, Celine and Julie Go Boating, Kicking and Screaming.

Four places you’ve lived: Chicago, New York City, Cambridge, Providence.

Four TV shows you love to watch: Gilmore Girls, Hockey Night in Canada (when in Detroit), Da Ali G Show, America’s Next Top Model (there, I admitted it).

Four places you’ve been on vacation: Prague, Edinburgh, Las Vegas, No. Whitefield, Maine.

Four websites you visit daily: Colby Cosh, The Gurgling Cod, Outer Life, Pandacam DC.

Four of your favorite foods: golabki, jambalaya, caesar salad, coconut cake.

Four places you’d rather be: Leelanau County, the Hall of Fame, the British Museum, and the place I’m going tomorrow, and not a moment too soon: Sterling Heights, Michigan.

Perhaps Terry will play. We can hope, but he also needs his rest. All other bloggers are not excused.

I think of you with every breath I take

And every breath becomes a sigh,

Not a sign of despair

But a sign that I care for you.

I hear your name with every breath I take,

On every breeze that wanders by,

And your name is a song

I’ll remember the long years through.

Even though I walk alone you guide me.

In the darkness you light my way,

And all the while inside me

Love seems to say, someday, someday.

And when I sleep you keep my heart awake,

But when I wake from dreams divine,

Every breath that I take

Is a prayer that I’ll make you mine.

Leo Robin, “With Every Breath I Take” (music by Ralph Rainger)

I can’t say I did much over the weekend in Smalltown, U.S.A., other than venturing out to buy groceries. My mother and I watched the excellent film version of The Trip to Bountiful on Saturday afternoon, and she gave a small birthday party for my sister-in-law last night, though I ended up being the center of attention, everybody naturally wanting to hear all about my recent medical adventures. Otherwise I read, chipped away at my accumulated e-mail, made a few phone calls, and continued to listen to music, something I’d all but stopped doing in the last few weeks of my illness.

Here, for what it’s worth and in case you’re interested, are some of the things I’ve most enjoyed hearing in recent days, listed in no particular order:

– Dave Frishberg, “Eastwood Lane”

– Couperin “The Mysterious Barricades” (played by Igor Kipnis)

– Dave Brubeck Quartet, “Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me”

– Marvin Gaye, “Got to Give It Up”

– Bill Charlap, “Written in the Stars”

– Pat Metheny, “Midwestern Night’s Dream”

– Gary Burton, “Gorgeous”

– Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto (played by Nathan Milstein)

– Julia Dollison, “Poses”

– Aimee Mann, “Save Me”

– Grainger “Brigg Fair” (sung by Peter Pears)

– Doc Watson, “Let the Cocaine Be”

– Stan Getz, “Blood Count”

– Stan Kenton, “Young Blood”

– Stephen Sondheim, “Being Alive” (sung by Dean Jones, from the original-cast album of Company)

– Jonatha Brooke, “Because I Told You So”

– Oleta Adams, “Get Here”

– Hindemith Symphonic Metamorphoses (last movement, conducted by George Szell)

– Mabel Mercer, “The Best Is Yet to Come”

– Copland “Down a Country Lane” (played by Leo Smit)

– Luciana Souza, “Doce de Coco”

– Tournemire Choral sur le “Victimae paschali” (played by the composer)

– Diana Krall, “Black Crow”

– Miles Davis, “Blue in Green” (from Kind of Blue)

– Dave’s True Story, “Blue Nile”

Today I plan to get my hair cut, start writing my drama column for Friday’s Wall Street Journal, take a nap, answer some more e-mail, take a walk through the neighborhood, eat three healthy meals, and watch On the Waterfront with my mother. I expect it will be a good day. As a friend of mine
likes to say, every day above ground is a good day.