Five words or less
by chuckofish
Buffy Summers: What are you doing here? Five words or less.
Spike: [pause] Out. For. A. Walk… Bitch.
dual personalities
Category: Uncategorized
August 14, 2012
August 13, 2012
Embarrassing picture Monday
by chuckofish
When I was in high school we amused ourselves by drawing pictures of each other (and other people) while bored in class. The above doodle depicts a 15-year old me, sketched by a friend of mine. Believe me when I say, the “Mean Girls” of the 21st century had nothing on us.
Why have I kept it all these years? Because that’s what I looked like.
August 12, 2012
Happy Birthday, Mark Knopfler!!
by chuckofish
Guitar god and song-writer supreme
I’ve been a huge fan of Mark Knopfler since the 1980s and I’m pretty sure I own every album he’s made except the odd live performance or ep. He was the first musician to make me appreciate the electric guitar, which I had previously considered loud, unmusical, and even tacky. How wrong I was — just go listen to “Brothers in Arms”! Douglas Adams once wrote, “Mark Knopfler has an extraordinary ability to make a Schecter Custom Stratocaster hoot and sing like angels on a Saturday night, exhausted from being good all week and needing a stiff drink.” True, but it’s not just his guitar playing that’s great; it’s his song-writing.
Mark Knopfler has an incredible feel for people’s stories and their history. Not many people write historical songs these days and his stand out. Who else could write songs about the discoverers of the Mason Dixon line, a mail order bride, a soldier in Napoleon’s army, a farmer driven to the edge, a ship dismembered for scrap iron, or a piper at Dunkirk and with a combination of simple lyrics and great music make them come alive?
It’s impossible to choose an all-time favorite, but I think my current one is “Before Gas and TV” — I love what it says and the music is perfectly mournful. You can hear it here:
If you’re in the mood for something more lively, try the classic:
What’s your favorite Mark Knopfler song?
P.S. Happy news! He’s coming out with a new cd in September!
August 11, 2012
Why I love Mervyn Peake
by chuckofish
Visiting a bookstore with my mother when I was around twelve, I nagged her into letting me buy the first couple volumes of Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast trilogy. I chose them because the cover art was cool and the writing clearly awesome. My mother, who read them before I did, found them beautiful but rather nightmarish. It was some years before I actually read the books myself, but once I did I was hooked. Here’s why:
There was a library and it is ashes. Let its long length assemble. Than its stone walls its paper walls are thicker; armoured with learning, with philosophy, with poetry that drifts or dances clamped though it is in midnight. Shielded with flax and calfskin and a cold weight of ink, there broods the ghost of Sepulchrave, the melancholy Earl, seventy-sixth lord of half-light.
It is five years ago. Witless of how his death by owls approaches he mourns through each languid gesture, each fine-boned feature, as though his body were glass and at its centre his inverted heart like a pendant tear.
and
The moon slid inexorably into its zenith, the shadows shriveling to the feet of all that cast them, and as Rantel approached the hollow at the hem of the Twisted Woods he was treading in a pool of his own midnight.
So if you need to escape the mundane world of straight lines, sharp angles, and normalcy, pay a visit to Gormenghast!
August 10, 2012
This and that
by chuckofish
I have a new picture of my daughters and the boy at the wedding on my desk at work. (The bell is a nice touch on my desk–it gives it just the right school-marmish tone I think, don’t you?)
I have a new picture of my sibs on a dresser.
As you can see, I like family pictures on my dresser.
Meanwhile daughter #2 prepares to move to Maryland.
She has a long way to go.
One week to go! Happy Friday!
August 9, 2012
Note to self
by chuckofish
I was casting about recently, as I am wont to do, trying to find something to read. I have plenty of books at home and usually can come up with something rather easily. And I did.
I started re-reading Civil to Strangers by Barbara Pym, which I had read back in the 1980s when I went through a Pym period. She had recently been re-discovered by the English-speaking world after the biographer David Cecil and the poet Philip Larkin both nominated her as the most underrated writer of the century.
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed my re-introduction to Pym.
Her books are very English, full of very English characters.
‘I suppose every author gets stuck occasionally,’ said Mrs. Gower.
‘The inspiration flows less easily,’ interposed Mrs. Wilmot, thinking that it was a more suitable phrase.
Cassandra smiled at both of them. ‘That’s just it,’ she said, making each woman feel that she had said exactly the right thing. ‘It’s so nice of you to ask after Adam’s book,’ she said, turning to Janie. ‘People are so kind,’ she added vaguely, almost as if her husband were an invalid who needed sympathetic enquiries.
I’m sure you know what I mean. Alexander McCall Smith even likens her to Jane Austen: “Like Jane Austen, Pym painted her pictures on a small square of ivory, and covered much the same territory as did her better-known predecessor: the details of smallish lives led to places that could only be in England. Neither used a megaphone; neither said much about the great issues of their time.”
So I have ordered Excellent Women, her most well-known novel, from Amazon and am eagerly awaiting its arrival.
‘I wonder, when you are working here, have you ever given a thought to all those who have died in Bodley’s Library, or as a result of working there?’
Adam was forced to admit that he had not.
‘You should, you know, it is quite an education.’
‘It would surely do one more good to concentrate on one’s work,’ said Adam austerely.
‘That is my work,’ said the clergyman simply. ’I am writing a thesis on that subject for the degree of Bachelor of Letters.’
Adam said nothing, but looked at him in some surprise.
‘Since my wife died,’ said the clergyman, ‘I have thought much of death. And your wife?’ He looked suddenly at Adam. ’You have a wife?’
‘She is not with me here,’ said Adam, hypnotised by the old man.
‘No, she is not with you here. But,’ his voice rose, ‘you must believe that you will meet again, that she will be waiting for you, in that other life, perhaps?’
‘She is in Budapest,’ said Adam shortly.
‘Oh, well, that’s another pair of shoes, isn’t it?’ said the clergyman surprisingly.
— Civil to Strangers
So if you are casting about for something to read, and the thought of the London Olympics ending makes you sad, I suggest you try Barbara Pym. You’ll be glad you did.
August 8, 2012
Mid-week movie pick
by chuckofish
Our movie pick as the end of the 2012 Olympics approaches is kind of a no-brainer and we have blogged about it already here, but we do love this movie! Chariots of Fire is a 1981 British film, which tells the fact-based story of two athletes in the 1924 Olympics: Eric Liddell, a devout Scottish Christian who runs for the glory of God,
and Harold Abrahams, a determined British Jew who runs to prove he’s as good as (if not better than) anyone else.
Harold does have an enormous chip on his shoulder in the movie, and whether this was the case in “real life” we don’t know. The fact is he ran the 100m race in 10.6, a mere second slower than the great Usain Bolt did a few days ago, eighty-eight years after Abrahams. I say, hats off to Abrahams and Liddell in their old-fashioned shoes and baggy shorts!
The film was written by Colin Welland and directed by Hugh Hudson, and was nominated for seven Academy Awards, winning four, including Best Picture. It is ranked 19th in the British Film Institute’s list of Top 100 British films.
I loved this movie when it was first released in 1981 and saw it 3 times in the theater, before the days of VHS and DVDs made that kind of desperate action unnecessary.
The film’s title was of course inspired by the line, “Bring me my chariot of fire,” from the William Blake poem adapted into the popular British hymn. “Jerusalem” was a popular hymn at our private school, where we sang it often in our morning chapel service. Here is a snippet of the hymn to get you in the mood:
The original phrase “chariot(s) of fire” is from 2 Kings 2:11 and 6:17.
August 7, 2012
Olympic update
by chuckofish
Yes, I have been watching the Olympics–what else would I do in the quadrennial summer of 2012? And it hasn’t been easy, considering that here in our flyover state we are bombarded relentlessly by repetitive and snarky political ads during the Olympic coverage. Aye carumba.
Furthermore, I must admit, I have not been impressed with NBC. (Don’t get me started on Bob Costas.) And I hate all the purple and magenta. I guess William and Kate the Great and the U.S. swimming team and Misty May Treanor make up for all this. And this little lady:
Go, Gabby!
Thanks again to Naeem Callaway for the visual message.
August 6, 2012
Pins and needles, needles and pins. It’s a happy man that grins.
by chuckofish
The honeymooners are back home. They had a great time in South Carolina. The boy even found a cannon.
How sweet it is.
August 5, 2012
Going up yonder
by chuckofish
Last Sunday daughter #1 and I went to the Choral Evensong service at my church Grace Episcopal. This service was the culmination of the Royal School of Church Music summer camp and the music was all performed by the children who attended the camp. The boy went to this for several years and was a proctor there once or twice as well. It was a lovely service and the large choir of young voices was a treat to hear.
This was my favorite song–“I’m Going Up Yonder” by Walter Hawkins. Although I love the traditional Anglican chants et al, this was a wonderful selection. And I admit–I had to get the Kleenex out. Turn up the volume and listen to the whole thing. (And thank you to whoever posted this on Youtube.)
If anybody asks you
Where I’m going
Where I’m going soon
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
To be with my Lord
If can take the pain
The heartache that it brings
There’s comfort that in knowing
I’ll soon be home
If God gives me grace
I’ll run this race
And soon I’ll see my Savior
Face to face
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
To be with my Lord
If anybody asks you
Where I’m going
Where I’m going soon
Goin’ home
