Greetings from the lazy ol’ Big Muddy River. I am enjoying daughter #2’s visit with Nate, as we go full speed ahead on wedding plans for July 2017.
Zut alors!
There is much to do, grasshopper.
*Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Last night son #2 and I treated ourselves to a Yul Brynner movie called “Escape from Zahrain”. In this fictional ‘Arab’ country, Ahmed (Sal Mineo) helps rebel leader, Sharif (Yul), escape from a prison truck. In the process, they are joined by Jack Warden and another convict. During their subsequent flight, they hijack an ambulance, complete with a pretty nurse (Madlyn Rhue). The rest of the movie amounts to a chase across the desert and one of Sal’s better death scenes. We enjoyed our viewing experience immensely, especially since Yul wore this unique headgear throughout the entire film.
Let’s take a closer look:
What…what is this hoodie-hat-shirt?
We were not sure of its purpose, but it got us thinking about all the other head coverings that Yul endured over the years. Take this fluffy white sheepskin confection from Taras Bulba.
Seriously. Only Yul could pull this outfit off and look proud to wear it!
or this alluring Egyptian Nemes headdress.
So sexy.
Sometimes he got to wear something more conventional like a navy captain’s cap
I like that turtleneck, don’t you?
or a cowboy hat.
Despite the headgear Yul sometimes sported, you have to admit that he was at his perfect best when his bald pate shined free, preferably with accompanying bare chest. Like this,
or this.
One thing’s for sure. No matter what exotic B-movie part he played, he always played it straight and gave it his all. Here’s to Yul Brynner, a consummate professional and awesome manly man. They sure don’t make ’em like you anymore!
Daughter #2 and Nate arrive today for a long weekend of celebrating in flyover country. We even have tickets to the Cardinals game on Monday night! It’s my flyover university’s first ever Night at the Ballpark–should be very interesting.
I hope Fred Bird makes an appearance and that he dances with our chancellor! I mean, how great would that be?
The weather isn’t even going to be that bad.
Meanwhile my friend Gary has finished stripping the wallpaper off the front hall, stairway and upstairs hall and painting it all. It looks fantastic. He even hung up my pictures so the OM would not have to engage in a battle of hammering to do so.
I will also note that Saturday is the birthday of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892), Poet Laureate of Great Britain. You might spend some time this weekend brushing up on your Tennyson poetry. It is pretty great. Here’s a section of “Ulysses” to get you started:
I am a part of all that I have met;Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fadesFor ever and forever when I move.How dull it is to pause, to make an end,To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on lifeWere all too little, and of one to meLittle remains: but every hour is savedFrom that eternal silence, something more,A bringer of new things; and vile it wereFor some three suns to store and hoard myself,And this gray spirit yearning in desireTo follow knowledge like a sinking star,Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
Go ahead: follow knowledge like a sinking star! Shine in use! Use it or lose it! Have a good weekend!
*The Carpenters, “Close to You”
Today is the birthday of Harry Lauder (August 4, 1870 – February 26, 1950)–famous Scottish music hall performer.
Lauder was, at one time, the highest-paid performer in the world, making the equivalent of £12,700 a night plus expenses. During the First World War Lauder promoted recruitment into the services and starred in many concerts for troops at home and on the western front. His entertainment activities were made ever the more poignant by the death in action of his only son at the end of 1916.
Our pater was a big fan of Harry Lauder and I recall him listening attentively to his scratchy 78 records, losing himself in a sentimental and, no doubt, alcohol-inspired fog. Frequently we would run from the room.
Anyway, here is Harry with Danny Kaye!
And here he is with Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy.
And here’s Robin Williams dressed like the good Scotsman he was. (He bears a certain resemblance to Sir Harry, don’t you think?)
Since we’re on a roll, here are some other great Scots in suitable attire.
Cheers to Sean Connery, Ewan McGregor, Gerard Butler, and the boy (in a kilt at his 8th grade graduation)! and to…
Roamin’ in the gloamin’ on the bonnie banks o’ Clyde.
Roamin’ in the gloamin’ wae my lassie by my side.
When the sun has gone to rest, That’s the time we love the best.
O, it’s lovely roamin’ in the gloamin!
*The title of a poem by Robert Burns
The last word is not said, — probably shall never be said. Are not our lives too short for that full utterance which through all our stammerings is of course our only and abiding intention? I have given up expecting those last words, whose ring, if they could only be pronounced, would shake both heaven and earth. There is never time to say our last word — the last word of our love, of our desire, faith, remorse, submissions, revolt. The heaven and the earth must not be shaken, I suppose — at least, not by us who know so many truths about either. My last words about Jim shall be few. I affirm he had achieved greatness; but the thing would be dwarfed in the telling, or rather in the hearing. Frankly, it is not my words that I mistrust but your minds. I could be eloquent were I not afraid you fellows had starved your imaginations to feed your bodies. I do not mean to be offensive; it is respectable to have no illusions — and safe — and profitable — and dull. Yet you, too, in your time must have known the intensity of life, that light of glamour created in the shock of trifles, as amazing as the glow of sparks struck from a cold stone — and as short-lived, alas! (Lord Jim)
Ninety-two years ago today Joseph Conrad died. Although it is fashionable to call him a racist these days, I have always liked Conrad’s books. Also, some good movies have been made based on them. One film I especially like is Swept From the Sea (1997) based on the short story “Amy Foster”.
It stars Rachel Weisz, Ian McKellen, the always appealing Vincent Perez, and the windswept coast of England. The story is emblematic of the author’s lonely life as an exile, so probably a good choice to watch tonight (or at least add to the list you are keeping of movies to watch at a later date.)
*Joseph Conrad, The Nigger of the ‘Narcissus’
The picture at the top of the page is the anchor-shaped Conrad monument at Gdynia, on Poland’s Baltic Seacoast.
This made me laugh.
Well, it is AUGUST! We are on the downward slide of the year.
On TCM it is Summer Under the Stars month and every day the schedule features the movies of one star. Today, for instance, they are showcasing the films of Lucille Ball. So check it out and set your DVR accordingly. Personally, I am looking forward to August 27 when it is James Garner day.
In other news, today is the birthday of Ernest Dowson (2 August 1867 – 23 February 1900), English poet.
He is famous for the phrases, “days of wine and roses” and “gone with the wind” and “faithful to thee in my fashion”. Here’s his poem Non Sum Qualis Eram Bonae Sub Regno Cynarae:
Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
If you prefer, you can listen to Richard Burton reciting it:
Poor Ernest led a sad life (see above photo). Both his parents committed suicide and he died at age 32. After Dowson’s death, Oscar Wilde wrote: “Poor wounded wonderful fellow that he was, a tragic reproduction of all tragic poetry, like a symbol, or a scene. I hope bay leaves will be laid on his tomb and rue and myrtle too for he knew what love was.” Oh brother.
On that note, try to enjoy your Tuesday.
*Ernest Dowson, from “Vitae Summa Brevis” (1896)
I had sad news over the weekend. My old friend and rector, the Rev. Ken Semon, died last week as the result of a biking accident at the age of 70. (You can read about it here.)
After leaving flyover country twenty years ago, he had answered a call in Arizona and was still working as an Episcopal priest in Santa Fe at the Church of the Holy Faith, the oldest Episcopal Church in New Mexico. He was really the finest minister and one of the best people I have ever known.
He was also a fraternity brother of Harrison Ford at Ripon College, a fanatical skiier, a PhD in English Literature, and a convert to Christianity. Maybe because he came to Christianity by choice and not by birth, he took it very seriously. A little too high church for my tastes, he was nevertheless a true Christian in every way and in my mind a rather saintly person.
It is appropriate that I have been reading Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death, the first book in the Grantchester mystery series, upon which the PBS series is based.
The author James Runcie is the son of the Rt. Rev. Robert Runcie, Archbishop of Canterbury from 198o–1991, and the protagonist, Sidney Chambers, is based on his father. You will recall that Robert Runcie served as a tank commander in WWII and earned the Military Cross for two feats of bravery in March 1945. He was also the only tank commander to capture a submarine.
Anyway, the Rt. Rev. Runcie came to my old church as the Holy Week preacher in the 1990s when Ken Semon was the rector. Runcie was a nice man and a good preacher. (I had lunch with his wife and I thought she was a bit of a pill.) It is nice to know that his son must also be a good guy and an Anglican.
I am enjoying this book a lot and I recommend it.
…but the plain fact was that even before he had involved himself in this criminal investigation he had had too many things on his plate. His standards were slipping and the daily renewal of his faith had been put on the back burner. He thought of the General Confession: ‘We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; and we have done those things which we ought not to have done…’
He started to make a list, and at the top of the list, as he had been advised at theological college, was the thing that he least wanted to do. ‘Always start with what you dread the most,’ he had been told. ‘Then the rest will seem less daunting.’ ‘Easier said than done,’ thought Sidney as he looked at the first item on the list of duties.
As you know, I do not believe in coincidence. I believe in the whispering voice saying, “You’re doing fine.”
Into paradise may the angels lead thee, Ken, and at thy coming may the martyrs receive thee, and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.
*Canon Sidney Chambers, “Grantchester” by James Runcie
dual personalities 