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interesting choice
May. 21st, 2013 03:44 pmFrench far-right historian, former OAS member, shoots himself in Notre Dame
Because nothing says "I decry my country's declining morals!" like committing a mortal sin. On consecrated ground.
remembering two great musicians
Dec. 12th, 2012 11:50 amDave Brubeck and Ravi Shanker, two wonderful musicians, have died recently. Both were in their 90s, so my first thought is not "how sad to lose them" but more "how wonderful to have had such people with us!"
I heard this piece on NPR last week, which brought home to me how much of Dave Brubeck's most popular work I know and recognize, and how crucual he was to the way that jazz developed in this country. I remember playing many of his pieces on the short-lived radio show I had on WCFM Williamstown in 1986. Since then, NPR's special correspondent Susan Stamberg has also filed this piece, a lovely memory of Dave Brubeck visitng her home.
I'm pretty sure that it was this recording of Blue Rondo a la Turk that I first heard. Same thing for Take FIve (which I also came to love for it's use in the odd and amusing series Oliver's Travels".)
Just this morning, I heard Stamberg's tribute to Ravi Shankar. It was the first I had heard of his death, but I didn't even need a phrase of his music to remind me of it; just his name conjures it powerfully from my memory. My dad had a special interest in India, having served there for two tours in World War Two. I don't know whether he first heard of Shankar through his collaboration with George Harrison or before that (one of his Shankar albums, which I think I still have, was "In London," recorded in 1964, two years before Harrison met the master of the sitar), but he enjoyed finding a way to get back in touch with an experience of his past. (The same was true of the fervour with which my parents patronised Indian restaurants, when those started appearing in southeastern Virginia where they lived.)
Thank you, Dave Brubeck and Ravi Shankar, for making the world a more beautiful and vibrant place, both while you were here with us and ever after, as your music endures.
I heard this piece on NPR last week, which brought home to me how much of Dave Brubeck's most popular work I know and recognize, and how crucual he was to the way that jazz developed in this country. I remember playing many of his pieces on the short-lived radio show I had on WCFM Williamstown in 1986. Since then, NPR's special correspondent Susan Stamberg has also filed this piece, a lovely memory of Dave Brubeck visitng her home.
I'm pretty sure that it was this recording of Blue Rondo a la Turk that I first heard. Same thing for Take FIve (which I also came to love for it's use in the odd and amusing series Oliver's Travels".)
Just this morning, I heard Stamberg's tribute to Ravi Shankar. It was the first I had heard of his death, but I didn't even need a phrase of his music to remind me of it; just his name conjures it powerfully from my memory. My dad had a special interest in India, having served there for two tours in World War Two. I don't know whether he first heard of Shankar through his collaboration with George Harrison or before that (one of his Shankar albums, which I think I still have, was "In London," recorded in 1964, two years before Harrison met the master of the sitar), but he enjoyed finding a way to get back in touch with an experience of his past. (The same was true of the fervour with which my parents patronised Indian restaurants, when those started appearing in southeastern Virginia where they lived.)
Thank you, Dave Brubeck and Ravi Shankar, for making the world a more beautiful and vibrant place, both while you were here with us and ever after, as your music endures.
(no subject)
Aug. 3rd, 2012 12:11 pmRIP, Sir John Keegan
Sometimes controversial, sometimes a bit of a hack, but overall a talented and ground-breaking military historian.
Sometimes controversial, sometimes a bit of a hack, but overall a talented and ground-breaking military historian.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2012 10:15 amI'm restarting my exercise program, so I went off for a quick power walk to start off the day (yes, yes, don't all start giggling at once). Nice morning, brisk and chilly; I think the crocuses that came up all got frostbite, but the robins and cardinals are all still convinced that spring is already here, and the forsythia outside my window is bravely plugging away.
Apart from getting horribly ill Friday night (something I ate) and thus losing Saturday to recovery, I have to say this has been a nice weekend. Mostly because I had such a nice Sunday. :-) Let me introduce a new character to our narrative, who for the moment we will call The Finn. The Finn and I met on OKC about a month ago and have been emailing back and forth. We've been on three dates now and, I have to say, I think she is something pretty special. Some people you meet and the "click" comes instantly; it's almost audible. Other people, I am coming to find, there's no sudden click, just a gradual sense dawning over one of "Hmmm, this person is pretty special, and we seem, mysteriously, to get on very well. How interesting; let's see where this goes." I am really looking forward to seeing how things go with the Finn. We spent Sunday having coffee, walking, and then sharing lunch. And talking, a great deal. It was an exceptionally nice day. Among other things, we spotted a coot. :-)
In other news, I managed to procrastinate my way out of doing my taxes yesterday by going to the Newseum with Da Grrlz. So I'll need to do it tonight instead, as I have to have those numbers for several other bits of paperwork.
I've finished a couple of books and an audio course; I'll write them up later.
I ran across a UK series that I really quite like. Of course, since I like it, it only lasted one season. Called Monday, Monday, it included some actors of the small screen that I'm quite fond of (like Fay Ripley, Neil Stuke, and Holly Aird, who reminds my of one of my sisters) and one gem of the British screen who I think every guy of my age in Britain has a certain thing for, Jenny Agutter. :-) It's about a small (given the size of the head office) supermarket chain; right at the end of it (spoiler alert),
( in case you might watch it, who knows? )
And on that rather morbid note, off to work.
Apart from getting horribly ill Friday night (something I ate) and thus losing Saturday to recovery, I have to say this has been a nice weekend. Mostly because I had such a nice Sunday. :-) Let me introduce a new character to our narrative, who for the moment we will call The Finn. The Finn and I met on OKC about a month ago and have been emailing back and forth. We've been on three dates now and, I have to say, I think she is something pretty special. Some people you meet and the "click" comes instantly; it's almost audible. Other people, I am coming to find, there's no sudden click, just a gradual sense dawning over one of "Hmmm, this person is pretty special, and we seem, mysteriously, to get on very well. How interesting; let's see where this goes." I am really looking forward to seeing how things go with the Finn. We spent Sunday having coffee, walking, and then sharing lunch. And talking, a great deal. It was an exceptionally nice day. Among other things, we spotted a coot. :-)
In other news, I managed to procrastinate my way out of doing my taxes yesterday by going to the Newseum with Da Grrlz. So I'll need to do it tonight instead, as I have to have those numbers for several other bits of paperwork.
I've finished a couple of books and an audio course; I'll write them up later.
I ran across a UK series that I really quite like. Of course, since I like it, it only lasted one season. Called Monday, Monday, it included some actors of the small screen that I'm quite fond of (like Fay Ripley, Neil Stuke, and Holly Aird, who reminds my of one of my sisters) and one gem of the British screen who I think every guy of my age in Britain has a certain thing for, Jenny Agutter. :-) It's about a small (given the size of the head office) supermarket chain; right at the end of it (spoiler alert),
( in case you might watch it, who knows? )
And on that rather morbid note, off to work.
before 9/11
Sep. 9th, 2011 08:51 amThere are times that I think we Americans use 9/11 abdly. We use it to justify doing bad things. We use it for political purposes. We use commemoration of it to seek undweserved pity for ourselves or to seek personal aggrandizement.
But a story like this one is an example of how remembering those who died, and how they died, is more than that, much more. It is a remembrance of good and worhty things, a way to find hope and an example for living.
Thank you, Father Mychal Judge, for your example of how to live a good, worthy, and happy life. And thank you, NPR and Story Corps, for bringing this good man's life to the rest of us.
I just heard on the way home that Pete Postlethwaite has died, at 64, of cancer.
A smoker since he was ten, according to his bio on Wikipedia.
A truly wonderful actor, he played in over fifty movies, countless TV programs, and many stage productions.
But I know that one that many of my friends will remember is one of Postlethwaite's own favourite roles.
All that talent, all that skill, all that sheer glorious humanity, lost to fucking cancer. A god damn crying shame.
A smoker since he was ten, according to his bio on Wikipedia.
A truly wonderful actor, he played in over fifty movies, countless TV programs, and many stage productions.
I know that one of the roles I loved him in was that of the spare, tough, hard-edged dying father and band leader in Brassed Off.
But I know that one that many of my friends will remember is one of Postlethwaite's own favourite roles.
All that talent, all that skill, all that sheer glorious humanity, lost to fucking cancer. A god damn crying shame.
parenthood isn't all about good stuff
Jul. 1st, 2010 09:56 pmAnd while there's fun and sentiment and heart-warming stuff, there's also this, which ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
redactrice shared with me today.
Virginia student's fatal stabbing leaves Fairfax police with no suspect or motive
This happened literally just around the corner from where we used to live. What makes it truly horrible is that "[the victim's mother] is a single mother 'who gave her everything. She worked night and day," her cousin To said. The family is struggling to pay for a funeral, and friends collected donations at the vigil.'"
I'm sure it's not the first or that last parent here or elsewhere to lose a child inexplicably and horribly and then on top of their loss be stuck with the hugely impossible cost of a funeral, but I know I'll be sending a check to the memorial fund.
redactrice shared with me today.Virginia student's fatal stabbing leaves Fairfax police with no suspect or motive
This happened literally just around the corner from where we used to live. What makes it truly horrible is that "[the victim's mother] is a single mother 'who gave her everything. She worked night and day," her cousin To said. The family is struggling to pay for a funeral, and friends collected donations at the vigil.'"
I'm sure it's not the first or that last parent here or elsewhere to lose a child inexplicably and horribly and then on top of their loss be stuck with the hugely impossible cost of a funeral, but I know I'll be sending a check to the memorial fund.
30 poems: numbers 12 and 13
May. 12th, 2010 03:52 pmTwo by Housman, another favourite of mine, with thanks to Martin Hardcastle for the transcription.
( one for spring )
( and one for sorrow )
( one for spring )
( and one for sorrow )
(no subject)
Nov. 12th, 2009 11:05 pmI'm reading an article on Arlington Cemetary (which article is quite fascinating, and which I will address itself later), and it mentions just briefly in passing that in in the month of Grant's 1864 offensive that resulted in the battle of the Wilderness and the Battle of Petersburg, the USA and CSA suffered 82,000 casualties.
In one month.
The US has suffered 31,557 wounded and 4.362 dead in Iraq since the invasion in 2003. In Afghanistan, 4,434 US servicemembers have been wounded since 2001 and 918 killed.
In other words, in eight years of war in two countries, the United States has taken roughly the same losses that the US Army alone (setting aside our Confederate brothers) took in ONE MONTH of combat in the Civil War.
Just a reminder: our population today is 304 million. In 1864, it was around 31 million. We have nearly ten times as many people today as we did then.
As always when I am struck by these sorts of numbers, I am not meaning by any means to denigrate the loss of any man or woman serving in our armed forces today. Every life is precious, especially those of people who are willing to go into harm's way for our country.
No, I am more struck by how irresolute and easily cowed I feel as if our country is today.
On D-Day alone, over 6,600 US personnel were killed or wounded. In the Second Battle of the Marne in 1917, in three weeks, the American Expeditionary Force took over 12,000 casualties. Recently the news media were wringing their hands because the US lost (I think it was) 14 soldiers and airmen in one week, repeating over and over again that it was the most grievous loss we had suffered in that campaign. Yes, that's true. It's also infinitesimal compared to actual losses we have taken in real wars. Those are 14 deaths that are tragic, 14 lives that can never be lived out and fully shared with their families and friends. But there's also a sense of proportion that I feel has been lost, a sense of understanding that I think seems to have passed.
We are at war. We are fighting enemies that, quite seriously, wish our destruction and will do everything in their considerable, if asymmetric power, to carry it out. Why do we think this will be cheap and easy? Why are we so willing to shrink from a loss that, devastating as it is individually, is so little compared to what we have withstood in other causes when we were, arguably, less threatened?
In one month.
The US has suffered 31,557 wounded and 4.362 dead in Iraq since the invasion in 2003. In Afghanistan, 4,434 US servicemembers have been wounded since 2001 and 918 killed.
In other words, in eight years of war in two countries, the United States has taken roughly the same losses that the US Army alone (setting aside our Confederate brothers) took in ONE MONTH of combat in the Civil War.
Just a reminder: our population today is 304 million. In 1864, it was around 31 million. We have nearly ten times as many people today as we did then.
As always when I am struck by these sorts of numbers, I am not meaning by any means to denigrate the loss of any man or woman serving in our armed forces today. Every life is precious, especially those of people who are willing to go into harm's way for our country.
No, I am more struck by how irresolute and easily cowed I feel as if our country is today.
On D-Day alone, over 6,600 US personnel were killed or wounded. In the Second Battle of the Marne in 1917, in three weeks, the American Expeditionary Force took over 12,000 casualties. Recently the news media were wringing their hands because the US lost (I think it was) 14 soldiers and airmen in one week, repeating over and over again that it was the most grievous loss we had suffered in that campaign. Yes, that's true. It's also infinitesimal compared to actual losses we have taken in real wars. Those are 14 deaths that are tragic, 14 lives that can never be lived out and fully shared with their families and friends. But there's also a sense of proportion that I feel has been lost, a sense of understanding that I think seems to have passed.
We are at war. We are fighting enemies that, quite seriously, wish our destruction and will do everything in their considerable, if asymmetric power, to carry it out. Why do we think this will be cheap and easy? Why are we so willing to shrink from a loss that, devastating as it is individually, is so little compared to what we have withstood in other causes when we were, arguably, less threatened?
(no subject)
Oct. 23rd, 2009 02:25 pmI heard the sad news today that a friend has died.
I'd echo the things Chuck says about Rich. He was a gentle, funny, well read, good-natured fellow who was always pleasant, always friendly. I too lost touch with him after meeting him through the CW wargames group when I was in high school and college, but we ran into each other online later and exchanged a number of emails. He was a good chap, and I'm sad to hear that he's gone.
I'd echo the things Chuck says about Rich. He was a gentle, funny, well read, good-natured fellow who was always pleasant, always friendly. I too lost touch with him after meeting him through the CW wargames group when I was in high school and college, but we ran into each other online later and exchanged a number of emails. He was a good chap, and I'm sad to hear that he's gone.
(no subject)
Aug. 13th, 2009 05:00 pmI was trying to track down some of my parents' friends, and found this obit for a good friend of theirs who died just this summer. No surprises in it, but a reminder of what s full and wonderful life she led. She was a pretty wonderful woman.
the leader of the band is tired...
Dec. 17th, 2007 08:14 pm"Easy-rocking singer-songwriter Dan Fogelberg, known for such '70s and '80s hits as "Leader of the Band" and "Same Old Lang Syne" died Sunday at his home in Maine, following a battle with prostate cancer. He was 56."
Story from the AP
Story from the AP
(no subject)
Sep. 4th, 2007 12:46 pmI was horrified to learn earlier this morning that a friend of mine died quite suddenly of cancer this morning. She had fought through a bout before, and had come through OK, though only after great pain and hardship. Apparently there was a sudden resurgence of it in the last few months, and it carried her off very quickly.
She was a very much larger-than-life person, acerbic, loud, honest, outspoken, a gay rights and anti-AIDS activist. I don't believe she had a partner at the moment, though I feel rather bad that I don't know for sure.
There's an obit in the Washington Blade, I'm glad to see. I'm very proud to have been a friend of hers.
She was a very much larger-than-life person, acerbic, loud, honest, outspoken, a gay rights and anti-AIDS activist. I don't believe she had a partner at the moment, though I feel rather bad that I don't know for sure.
There's an obit in the Washington Blade, I'm glad to see. I'm very proud to have been a friend of hers.
late-day post: government at its finest
Jul. 5th, 2007 05:38 pmMy mum received a letter today addressed to my dad from the Commonwealth of Virginia's Department of Taxation:
Dear Customer: We recently received information from you indicating that you are no longer required to file sales and use tax returns effective March 31, 2007. Please check your records and verify that this information is correct. If it is incorrect, please notify us immediately. If you have any questions or need assistance,please call us at [number]
Her comment? "In view of the fact that I sent a death certificate, I wonder what kind of help they have in mind....." Pure New England Yankee. :-)
Dear Customer: We recently received information from you indicating that you are no longer required to file sales and use tax returns effective March 31, 2007. Please check your records and verify that this information is correct. If it is incorrect, please notify us immediately. If you have any questions or need assistance,please call us at [number]
Her comment? "In view of the fact that I sent a death certificate, I wonder what kind of help they have in mind....." Pure New England Yankee. :-)
more sad news
May. 22nd, 2007 05:40 pmMy mother's sister died Sunday. As my mum said, "It wasn't very much of a surprise; she'd made her mind up that that's what was going to happen." They hadn't been in touch for a fair while, I think, after my aunt got a bit hermity and then went into a nursing home. But it's got to feel a bit lonely to be without your parents, your partner, and your only sibling. I called and talked to mum right away; she seems to be OK, and some of her friends had her over for dinner just last night. But I will feel better after soccer_fox and I have a chance to go spend a weekend with her and see how she's getting on.
soccer_fox and I have a chance to go spend a weekend with her and see how she's getting on.(no subject)
Apr. 4th, 2007 08:43 amNeta and I were at the Screaming Eagles viewing party, watching the end of the second leg of the DC United-Chivas de Guadalajara Champions Cup series, when my phone rang. It was my sister Cornelia, calling to let me know our dad had died.
I feel as if I had a chance to say goodbye the last time I was there, and I don't feel as if he, the person I knew and loved, has really been there for a while, so I'm not sad I wasn't there at the last. My mum went to see him the other day, and C. says he was just overjoyed to see her and they had a very happy time together, so I hope she won't be having any lingering feelings of guilt, which I was afraid of before.
I'm sad, of course, but mostly I'm mystified as to exactly what happened. It sounds as if he was lucid and happy, but in considerable discomfort, so his going now was probably for the best. But the reports I've heard have seemed so completely disparate (one minute he's in a decline, then the next he's talking and eating and getting stronger), and so little actual medical explanation for what's happened has been forthcoming that I'm terrifically puzzled.
But, in the end, that isn't really what's important. What's important is that he seems to have been relatively happy and calm at the end, instead of furious and unhappy as he was when he went to the hospital. That we all got a chance to see him and say goodbye. That he isn't suffering in body or mind anymore.
Being the English teacher he was, I know he'd like to be remembered in a poem. I looked for one and had a hard time choosing. For now, I think this is a good one.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
I feel as if I had a chance to say goodbye the last time I was there, and I don't feel as if he, the person I knew and loved, has really been there for a while, so I'm not sad I wasn't there at the last. My mum went to see him the other day, and C. says he was just overjoyed to see her and they had a very happy time together, so I hope she won't be having any lingering feelings of guilt, which I was afraid of before.
I'm sad, of course, but mostly I'm mystified as to exactly what happened. It sounds as if he was lucid and happy, but in considerable discomfort, so his going now was probably for the best. But the reports I've heard have seemed so completely disparate (one minute he's in a decline, then the next he's talking and eating and getting stronger), and so little actual medical explanation for what's happened has been forthcoming that I'm terrifically puzzled.
But, in the end, that isn't really what's important. What's important is that he seems to have been relatively happy and calm at the end, instead of furious and unhappy as he was when he went to the hospital. That we all got a chance to see him and say goodbye. That he isn't suffering in body or mind anymore.
Being the English teacher he was, I know he'd like to be remembered in a poem. I looked for one and had a hard time choosing. For now, I think this is a good one.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
