Political Comment (by proxy)

I think Matt Taibbi is one of the sharpest political reporter/commentators out there today. His regular gig now is with Rolling Stone, but I remember first discovering him as one of the co-founders of the Buffalo Beast alternative paper in my hometown some years back. Anyway, he recently posted a response to that self-serving letter that appeared last week in the New York Times from an AIG executive, and I think Taibbi's response is dead on. You can read it here (fair warning: Taibbi can be a little free with his language).

P.S. A bonus quote-for-the-day from John Ruskin (1819-1900) seems appropriate in this context:

"Whereas it has been known and declared that the
poor have no right to the property of the rich,
I wish it also to be known and declared that the rich
have no right to the property of the poor."

Monday Philosophizing

From the noted Soviet dissident, Andrei Sakharov, comes this (which pretty much explains why he was seen as a dissident):

"Intellectual freedom is essential to human society....
Freedom of thought is the only guarantee against
an infection of people by mass myths, which, in the
hands of treacherous hypocrites and demagogues,
can be transformed into bloody dictatorships."

Lou Saban, RIP

Buffalo is a city that lives and dies with its sports teams. One can argue whether that is really the healthiest or most productive form of community identity, but that doesn't matter-- it's true. I suspect a big part of the reason that the city so closely identifies with the Bills in particular, has a lot to do with the legacy of Lou Saban, the hard-nosed coach who took the team to consecutive AFL titles in the mid-1960s and later returned the team to a bit of glory in the early seventies during the O.J. Simpson era. He was our Vince Lombardi. I know as a kid in that earlier period that Saban's name was as familiar as that of Jack Kemp or Billy Shaw or Elbert Dubenion; only Cookie Gilchrist was a bigger name from those glory years (but then, I was six at the time, so how could I not be impressed by a massive fullback named "Cookie"?). Over the many years of his subsequent peripatetic career, I think most Bills fans always imagined that someday he would return to the city by the lake and rescue the team, and the city, from its all too frequent doldrums. Now its too late for that, and we'll have to find another white knight.

You can find the Buffalo News obituary of Saban here; and the New York Times obit here.

What Makes a Classic?

Here's a great example of what raises a movie above the run-of-the-mill. It's a scene from the Howard Hawks version of The Big Sleep from 1946 (you won't find anything even remotely as good in the inferior Michael Winner remake from 1978). This scene hardly advances the narrative at all, but it goes a long way towards developing character and atmosphere, which are the elements that sweep you along even as the convoluted plot twists become more tangled. There's a famous anecdote about this film when Hawks and scriptwriter William Faulkner became confused about one of the multiple murders and called the author of the source novel, Raymond Chandler, for clarification. Chandler had to admit he didn't know the answer either, and the point was left unresolved in the final cut. But with scenes like this one, I'd bet very few viewers than or now ever noticed the omission. I guess my point is that a movie can be propelled by star power (was there anyone better than Bogart?) and a kind of story-telling verve that render details like that unimportant; and when it's done as well as this, well, you've got yourself a timeless classic.

A Favorite Painting 18

N.C. Wyeth, Franklin's Arrival in Philadelphia 1923

As should be evident from previous posts in this series, my reaction to a painting is often based on historical elements, whether overt or not. Even though this image is distinctly historical in topic, that has little to do with how much I like it. I saw this at the Amon CarterMuseum in Fort Worth a few years ago, and was drawn to the image by the gorgeous interplay of light and dark, so suggestive of an Indian summer evening, with the leaves turning and lengthening shadows slanting across the sidewalk. Wyeth was known primarily as a magazine illustrator, and its easy to imagine this picture augmenting some biographical narrative of the founding father. But all by itself, it's highly suggestive of the kind of fresh start one might associate with start of a new school term, or perhaps at the start of the harvesting season. In the popular imagination, we don't often think of Benjamin Franklin as a young man, but knowing what he became, this picture just seems full of promise and potential-- for him, for the country, for whoever. I think it's that sense of possibility, along with the nostalgia of Indian summers past, that draws me to this painting.

A Thought to Start the Week

Here's a sobering thought from noted media critic Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980). He wrote this in 1964 in his classic work Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man and one would be hard-pressed to prove it doesn't remain true today:

"The historians and archaeologists will one day
discover that the ads of our times are the richest
and most faithful daily reflection that any society
ever made of its entire range of activities."

The Last Book I Read

I haven't written before about what I'm reading, but thought I might start. Unlike movies, which I obviously watch sequentially (that is, one at a time), I'm usually in the middle of three or four books, hence it never really feels like I'm done; even when I finish one I'm still immersed in several others. But I thought it might be worthwhile to offer some comments about at least some of them, especially if I think some readers of the blog might want to look for them the next time they stop by the library or bookstore. So, the last book I finished was Blood and Thunder: The Epic of Kit Carson and the Conquest of the American West by Hampton Sides.

The cover promises an epic, and it is that. Kit Carson is clearly a central character in the narrative, but this is not a biography, as Carson vanishes from the story for long stretches, though he always eventually pops up again (and emerges as the central character in the latter portion of the book). And, though the idea of conquest is central to the plot, it has more to do with the defeat of a single Indian tribe, the Navajos, than a detailed exposition of how the entire trans-Mississippi region came under American control. I guess what I'm saying is that, don't let the cover mislead you about what this book is all about. The focus is on how the territory known as New Mexico was contested over about twenty years or so, between native peoples and interlopers from the south and later the east. It provides something of a split focus in the early sections, trading off chapters written from the perspective of the American military as it entered the region in the early days of the war with Mexico (and focusing on commanders like Stephen Kearney and John C. Fremont), with those offering more of the Navajo slant (particularly with respect to their famous leader Narbona). This makes for a balanced picture, and Sides does a nice job of developing the complex nature of the various groups' motives, strategies, and interactions. By the latter half of the book, as the timeline jumps ahead to the Civil War era, the overt Navajo perspective starts to fade, but because the reader has already been well-grounded in their background from the earlier chapters, we still feel the emotional weight of their round-up and re-location.

As long and as detailed as this book is, it really represents something of a snapshot of what unfolded in the American West between the days of Lewis and Clark and the end of the Indian wars in the 1890s. But it is an evocative snapshot, that has relevant counterparts almost everywhere in this country (even including much of the eastern portion going back to colonial days). While it is hardly a critique of the policies that led to reservations and even extermination of the natives, it certainly demonstrates how those policies emerged from basic competition for resources that were never as expansive as visionaries of the west (like Thomas Hart Benton or William Gilpin) promised. The ultimate tragedy is that respected and capable individuals like Narbona and Carson were implicated in treacherous acts that allowed the other side to paint them as villains, unleashing less scrupulous individuals like the vicious zealot John M. Chivington, which in turn led to destructive actions that almost always left the Indians especially weakened and vulnerable.

It's a compelling, and ultimately sad story. But at least it goes some way to restoring a human dimension to both sides, getting beyond the dime novel bally-hoo of Carson's career and restoring (for the non-Indian reader) a sense of the rich Navajo heritage of pride and accomplishment.

Saturday Morning Cartoons

I was trying to think of another regular feature to add to the blog and came up with this: classic cartoons from my youth (no doubt the idea was prompted by my stumbling over Roger Ramjet a few days ago). Anyway, I fondly remember watching Beany and Cecil the Seasick Sea Serpent when I was a kid, and maybe some of you will remember this as well. The animation is pretty rudimentary, but the jokes largely hold up and the show featured one of the greatest cartoon villains of them all, Dishonest John. Enjoy:

Thought for the Day

Samuel Clemens, better known as Mark Twain, has a common reputation of being a kind of benign figure. That image doesn't hold up to closer scrutiny, though that hardly diminishes the power or relevance or wit of his work. Here's something he wrote in 1899, at the height of his celebrity-- one wishes that celebrity translated into greater influence, especially on this point (feel free to speculate on the exception noted in the comments):

"I am quite sure that (bar one) I have no race prejudices,
and I think I have no color prejudices or caste prejudices
nor creed prejudices. Indeed I know it. I can stand any
society. All that I care to know is that a man is a human
being-- that is enough for me; he can't be any worse."

Mary Lou Lord Live

Mary Lou Lord is well known for being discovered some years ago busking on the streets of Boston and for singing a lot of Nick Salomon (from Bevis Frond) songs. This isn't a Salomon tune (it was written by Richard Thompson) but it is performed on the street, as you'll see, even though this was long after her discovery. It's a little chaotic visually, but I think you might enjoy it nonetheless.

Friday Family Blogging Quiz

Okay, this is one of those "use your imagination" quizzes (since I don't actually know what the right answer is, though maybe Natalie does). What do you think the name of the cat in the above picture should be? Put your responses in the comments section; most creative response wins.

Last week I asked if you could identify the setting for the picture of Sara, and wouldn't you know it, Theresa got it right out of the box (at least her correct answer didn't convince everyone else, so there were some additional guesses). By the way, the midweek geography quiz is still waiting for a right answer, as is the informal question from yesterday about where the flowers are (or to put it another way, I love getting comments so keep those guesses coming).

More Friday Family Blogging

Here's another one I like from 1988 (more than twenty years ago-- yikes!) when Catie and I went to Spain to visit Nick. This was taken in Toledo (actually, maybe just outside the gates of the city). Toledo was one of many very cool places we visited and I hope I get the chance to go back some day.

Friday Family Blogging

The digitizing of old photos continues. I'm not doing this in any kind of orderly fashion, which allows me to stumble across stuff I'd forgotten about (actually, that would probably happen even if I were doing it in an orderly fashion). Anyway, here's a nice picture I found that I thought you might like:

This isn't the weekly quiz (but in a baldfaced attempt to spark some comments), anyone know where this was taken? A hint, we were hiking down a ski hill in the summer time. In case any of the faces are unrecognizable this is (l to r) Nick, Richard, Sally, Liz & Marenka, Theresa, Joe. That was a fun day.

Friday Philosophy

Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) was a Scottish historian and sociologist. Here's something from a lecture he delivered in 1840, which retains some contemporary relevance:

"The first duty of man is that of subduing fear.
We must get rid of fear; we cannot act at all till then.
A man's acts are slavish, not true but specious;
his very thoughts are false, he thinks too as a slave
and coward, till he has got fear under his feet."

If I Were in Buffalo...

I'd go see this guy at the library tomorrow (it's free):

One of the most interesting creative people working today (according to me), Harvey Pekar is giving a presentation tomorrow at the downtown library. I hope if anyone reading this does attend, they'll send me a full report in the comments.

Is It Spring Yet?

There's a Winter Advisory in effect for Dillon tonight, but I know that somewhere, the flowers are in bloom!

These photos were taken in the last two weeks-- anybody want to guess where?

A Favorite Painting 17

Jackson Pollack, Lavender Mist: No. 1 1950

The years after World War II were fraught with anxiety for a lot of Americans. No one knew if the economy might collapse back into depression. It wasn't clear if veterans, especially those who'd been in combat for most of the previous four years, could be effectively reintegrated into civilian society. Those who did not return left shattered families that, in particular, hinted at juvenile delinquency increasing in the absence of strong paternal influence. The Red Scare promoted paranoia and accelerated numbing conformity. Women who'd played their part in building the nation's defenses were stripped of their nascent independence and the options it provided them. Massive emigration had dramatically redrawn the racial, ethnic, class lines of communities across the country and as a consequence, longstanding social relations had to be re-examined. Revelations about the horrors of the Holocaust and the use of atomic weapons gave pause to those who imagined the course of human history as unwaveringly progressive and positive. Amidst all that, it seems to me that Pollack's work was almost inevitable and, amazingly, reassuring through its capture of the elements of dynamic beauty that existed regardless of those troubling circumstances (though that may be easier to say now with the benefit of hindsight). This painting, which I saw at the National Gallery in Washington DC, is both the embodiment of, and antidote for, the time of its creation.

Remembering Commander Tom

I was having breakfast with some friends this morning and the topic of classic cartoons came up, prompted by the sighting of a vanity license plate "BOO BOO" and speculation on what it meant (if you don't see the connection, then you probably haven't been thinking about Yogi Berra recently, like I have). Anyway, it reminded me of the Commander Tom Show that I used to watch when I was a kid, on channel 7 in Buffalo. Hosted by the station's weather man, dressed up in a faux military/space uniform, Commander Tom showed old Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers serials, Little Rascals shorts, and of course cartoons. The one I remember best was Roger Ramjet, which I hadn't actually seen in possibly 40 years. But thanks to the wonders of Youtube, which I logged into as soon as I got to a computer, rediscovery was just a few keystrokes away. I have to say, it holds up pretty well! In fact, I'm kind of heartened to see that even a kids' show in the 1960s could poke fun at Cold War hyperbole. Check it out for yourself:

Today's Great Thought

I don't know anything about the Swiss philosopher Henri Frederic Amiel (1821-1881), except that I fully agree with this statement, which is as true today as when he wrote it in 1856:

"Truth is not only violated by falsehood;
it may be outraged by silence."

Pompei

Sometime back my nephew Ben asked me to post some pictures from my visit to Pompei back in 2000. I've finally gotten around to digitizing some of those pictures, so here they are. Pompei was the last stop for me on the trip (my traveling companions were there a couple days longer and also took in Capri). We'd previously visited Rome, Florence, Venice and Pisa (actually following an itinerary that was very similar to my visit last fall). As I recall, Pompei was cold and largely empty of other tourists, though we did make the acquaintance of a presumably local dog who followed us around for most of the day.

I don't have these properly labeled to be able to say exactly what they are, but above is a little crossroads in the city, with Vesuvius visible in the distance to the right.

Here is a particularly well-preserved facade of some public building, along with the remnants of some columns. It's actually kind of creepy wandering among these ruins, knowing the fate that befell the last inhabitants.

In various spots around the town, you find these cages filled with archaeological artifacts that have yet to be cataloged for display. It's just piles and piles of stuff- the recovered possessions of those who died (or fled from) the eruption. I suspect that any one of these cages holds enough fascinating material to keep someone who's interested in ancient history occupied for days.

More columns. One wonders if this won't ultimately be what someplace like Las Vegas will look like when the water runs out.

Last, a more lighthearted image. My friends emulating the figure in the statue in the foreground. That's Evan, Lindsey, Christine, Jim and Lindy. If any of you are looking in, drop me a line and let me know how things are going.

Midweek Geography Quiz

Okay, let's see if I can't spark a little more interactivity around here. This is a photo I took almost 25 years ago in a place I imagine most of you have heard of. Can anyone guess where? Be as specific as possible, and put your answers in the comments section.

A Book I Want to Read

There's an interesting interview today at Salon.com with author Allen Barra who has just published a biography of baseball great Yogi Berra. I remember reading Barra's columns in the Village Voice back in the 1980s, and always found his work to be both thoughtful and engaging. As he points out in this interview, although recognized as a star, Yogi was an even better player than many realized. His reputation often suffered as a result of the well-reported malapropisms that signaled him as something less than an intellectual (to put it mildly). But despite that wide public perception, Yogi was pretty much a success at everything and largely as a result of his own efforts, both mental and physical. What sounds particularly interesting about the book is the attention paid to Berra's salary battles with the Yankees during his heyday in the 1940s and 1950s. There's a common misperception that baseball only became a business with the advent of free agency and players agents in teh 1970s. Nothing could be further from the truth, it's just that teams retained so much clout in negotiations before that, that it was rare for that aspect of the game to be reported. Anyway, this looks like a good read, and some of you may want to check it out too.

Wednesday's Words of Wisdom

I can't believe I haven't yet posted something by the quintessential Renaissance Man, Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519). So, to rectify that situation, here's a quote that ought to serve as a general motto for all of us:

"Iron rusts from disuse, stagnant water loses
its purity, and in cold, weather becomes frozen;
even so does inaction sap the vigors of the mind."

The Sincerest Form of Flattery

You know what they say about imitation... well, here are three movie scenes that kind of prove the point. The first is from the classic Jean Luc Godard film Band of Outsiders from 1964. The actors are Anna Karina, Sami Frey and Clause Brasseur. The film was not a musical, just included this neat musical moment:



In 1992, Hal Hartley did his variation of the communal dance in his film, Simple Men (definitely worth seeing if you are looking for something to rent), and I think you can see some similarities. The dancers here are Elina Lowensohn, Bill Sage, Martin Donovan, Robert Burke and Karen Sillas:



Last, here's the famous dance scene from Quentin Taratino's Pulp Fiction (1994), with Uma Thurman and John Travolta. Actually, the scene following this one, where Uma dances solo to a tape of Urge Overkill doing "Kentucky Woman" (which I couldn't find a clip of) makes the connection to the Hartley film even more pronounced as she mirrors some of Lowensohn's moves in that sequence. But this is close too:



The point I want to make here is that great artists inevitably borrow from one another, and there's nothing wrong with that as long as the borrowings are relevant to the work as a whole (as is certainly true with Simple Men and Pulp Fiction, and Band of Outsiders too, though I'm not sure where to look for its particular antecedent). I remember noting the nod to Simple Men in Pulp Fiction, but only later discovered the Godard film. Personally, I find the continuity suggested by these links fascinating and appreciate that one generation is paying tribute to their creative ancestors. This is more obvious, I think, in music, but clearly is a factor in all artistic endeavors.

Tuesday's Quote

Robert M. LaFollette (1855-1925) was a mainstay of the Progressive movement of the early 20th century. He served as a governor and Senator from Wisconsin for many years, and founded the magazine that continues today as The Progressive in 1909. The warning quoted here has as much relevance today as it did when he wrote it in 1920:

"Let no man think that he can deny civil liberty to others
and retain it for ourselves.... When zealous agents of the
Government arrest suspected "radicals" without warrant,
hold them without prompt trial, deny them access to
counsel and admission of bail... we have shorn the Bill of
Rights of its sanctity as a shield to every American citizen"

A Musical Interlude

Here's one that maybe even Mom will enjoy: Anita O'Day (her name means "money" in Pig Latin) and Roy "Little Jazz" Eldridge with the Gene Krupa Orchestra from 1942. To me, this is rock and roll in everything but name (but then I tend to a very broad definition of rock and roll ;-)

A Favorite Painting 16

Aaron Douglas, Slavery Through Reconstruction Aspects of Negro Life, 1934

During the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s, for the first time, creative work done by African-Americans was given a degree of attention and respect as a legitimate expression of American culture. Up until that point, black artists had little opportunity to display their work before the broader public. But following the first world war, in which African-American servicemen and workers proved for the umpteenth time their claim on full citizenship, there was a flowering of both output and patronage that finally paid tribute to the wealth of talent within the black community in everything from poetry to sculpture. Not too surprisingly, much of the work that surfaced in this period commented back on the earlier generations, and Aaron Douglas' painting is a good representative of that tendency. In it, we see the prevailing historical perspective that too often suggested that black folk were incidental to their own experience. In the foreground, the white cotton bolls signify its prominence in defining southern culture, even as the people who worked the crop and guaranteed its economic primacy are cast in shadows. Still, even from that marginal and indistinct place, their actions take on the appearance of accomplishment and even celebration. This painting strikes me as an assertion that despite mainstream ignorance, blacks were ready to claim their rightful place in the nation's historic social hierarchy, a place defined not by those who sought to enslave or dismiss them, but rather by their own contributions to the success and prosperity of the nation. In this way, it's a great American story, representing the promise of our core national values and how they resonate across any arbitrary racial or class divisions.

Political Comment

For the past couple of weeks, it seems like everyone has been caught up in the imbroglio over bonuses paid to executives at companies that have been rescued from failure by taxpayer dollars. This is clearly an issue that strikes a chord, not just because of the cash involved, but also the a commonly held basic notion of fairness: how is it that individuals largely responsible for the economic misfortunes of not only these particular companies (most notably AIG), but really global financial markets in general, can be rewarded for their malfeasance?

Clearly this is a big story, but on some level I can't help but think it is also a distraction. So much time and energy is being devoted to an issue that is easy to grasp, but only really symbolically representative of the ongoing problem. Yes, these companies have been profligate, and that needs to stop. But how exactly does taxing the bonuses address that problem? Do we really think that the corporations won't figure out other ways to compensate their executives that would be equally evasive of general notions of their actual worth? Wouldn't we realize a more equitable and satisfying (in the long-term) return if efforts were made to establish functioning regulatory oversight of the industry, close corporate tax loopholes, and criminally prosecute those who we are now suggesting may have actually engaged in fraud? I don't see any of those things really being discussed, certainly not with the vehemence of the bonus issue. Maybe something is happening behind the scenes, but it seems if any real progress is to made in areas of real substance-- as opposed to some form of symbolic public retribution-- it would be nice to see the powers-that-be in the Obama administration out front generating public support for those efforts.

Monday's Musing

Courtesy of the Spanish-born American philosopher, George Santayana, here's a little something to think about:

"Scepticism is the chastity of the intellect, and it is
shameful to surrender it too soon or to the first
comer: there is nobility in preserving it cooly and
proudly through a long youth, until at last, in the
ripeness of instinct and discretion, it can be safely
exchanged for fidelity and happiness."

The Last Movies I Saw

I caught a couple of films over the weekend, and they kind of lend themselves to a combined review. Each centers on a couple whose romantic impulses are brought under tremendous pressure by respective doubts about shared goals and motives.

The first of these two films is Tony Gilroy's Duplicity (Gilroy also wrote and directed one of my favorite films from last year, Michael Clayton), starring Julia Roberts and Clive Owens. I guess we could call it a caper comedy-thriller, wherein two experienced spies (Roberts' caharacter was in the CIA, Owens's in MI6) go to work in the private sector with the intention of ripping off their employers for $40 million. It plays out with multiple twists and turns and frankily, in the end is pretty forgettable. I like Owens a lot, and his charm carries the film; I'm not so big a fan of Roberts, and to me she's a little over her head in this film-- not bad really, just kind of one-dimensional and, aside from her obvious beauty, rather charmless. Maybe that's just me (and to be fair, I've seen her in other movies where I thought she did just fine).

The other film was Revolutionary Road, directed by Sam Mendes and starring Leonardo DeCaprio and Kate Winslet. In this story, two young dreamers (he of travel, she of acting) find themselves married with kids and living in the suburbs of 1950s America. Both know they are unhappy, but find themselves incapable of fully breaking the chains that have locked them into their middle class prison. The acting by both leads (and all of the supporting cast) is fantastic (I'm a little mystified why Winslet's performance here was overlooked in Academy Award nominations in deference to The Reader-- I found this to be a much more subtle and compelling performance). It's kind of a harrowing story in many ways, and ends on a downbeat note. But throughout it is thoughtful and realistic in a manner that goes beyond the period detail in costumes and sets (in fact, it makes me want to read the source novel by Richard Yates).

I guess that is ultimately the key difference between these two films. One is all flash and style, the other deals in substance. Duplicity was a reasonably entertaining way to spend a couple hours, but ultimately meaningless and forgettable; while Revolutionary Road provokes continued thought and consideration. I think the main reason for this, is that the latter actually deals with real people with whom I can identify, while the former is just a couple of movie stars playing roles that have virtually no connection to anything real. I think I was also somewhat put off by and underlying conceit of Duplicity, which is that corporations are smarter than people (whereas Revolutionary Road, with its "Organization Man" subtheme posits a more complex take on the corporate world). This may actually be true on some level, but I hardly think its something to celebrate, which is how it plays out in this film.

The Wonder of Krazy Kat

There is something fundamentally satisfying about the work of the great George Herriman, especially in his masterpiece, the Krazy Kat strip. His landscapes appear surreal (unless you've ever visited the canyons of the Southwest United States) as do the relations between his characters (unless you've ever truly negotiated the tangled web of real human interaction). Krazy loves Ignatz the Mouse, who expresses his undying contempt for the Kat with the utter violence of regularly flung bricks to Krazy's noggin. Offisa Pupp harbors his own unrequited for the Kat, and fails to see that Ignatz' regular attacks are welcomed by Krazy, since they demonstrate that Ignatz's feelings for him are intense and result in constant attention.

All the inhabitants of Coconino County are playing out the roles that destiny has assigned them, in an environment that magnifies their individual insignificance, at least insofar as they try to assert some kind of control over their fate. Krazy rolls with things and is happy, even when laid out by another brick, while Ignatz and Offisa Pupp are endlessly frustrated in their efforts to alter the outcome of their little "play." I think there's a lesson in there, but even if not, it sure is a beautiful strip to view and think about.

Sunday Philosophizing

Today's quote comes from Jose Ortega y Gasset's classic dissection of the dangers of conformity and group-think, especially in relation to false notion that the distribution of political power (through democracy, for instance) is itself sufficient to elevate the individual out of ignorance. This comes from his classic work, The Revolt of the Masses from 1929:

"The most radical division that it is possible to make of
humanity is that which splits it into two classes of
creatures: those who make great demands on themselves,
piling up difficulties and duties; and those who demand
nothing special of themselves, but for whom to live is to
be every moment what they already are, without
imposing on themselves any effort toward perfection;
mere buoys that float on waves"

My Favorite TV Show of All-Time

Believe it or not, Maverick was my favorite TV show when I was about 4 years old (watching it in daytime re-runs while waiting for my older sister Sally to come home from kindergarten for lunch), and it is probably still my all-time favorite show. Periodically over the years, it would pop up in syndication and I'd be able to reacquaint myself with Bret and Bart and Beau (and yes, even Brent), and unlike most older shows that one re-encounters, this one holds up very very well. Obviously the charm of stars James Garner and Jack Kelly was a big part of this, as was the sense of humor that infected many episodes, offering up direct and not-so-direct parodies of the western genre and competing programs from its initial run from 1957-1962. You know it was a great concept because it kept being revived, first in Young Maverick from the 1970s, then Bret Maverick (with Garner back in the title role) in the 80s, and finally with the Mel Gibson movie version of a few years ago. It's a shame that with so many other old shows getting deluxe releases on DVD, that this true classic somehow is ignored. Anyway, here's a video I found of the theme and title song over the end credits of an episode from 1958 or 1959. Can anyone else sing all the words?



As long as we're on the topic of favorite TV shows, why not let me know your favorite(s) in the comments section.

Hope Springs Eternal!

It's the first day of Spring, but baseball's spring training is actually winding down, with the regular season set to start in about two weeks. So far, my team, the Atlanta Braves, have been just incredible in Grapefruit League games (what they call the exhibitions by teams training in Florida), with 15 wins against only 3 losses. Needless to say, that creates an awful lot of optimism for the upcoming regular season, even despite their disappointing showing last year. They've got some good young talent coming up (like pitcher Tommy Hanson in the center of the photo above), and filled some holes through trades and free agency over the winter. They certainly aren't quite the power they were through the nineties, but just maybe they'll be able to compete for a wild card playoff spot this year. But then, I guess every fan of every team is harboring the same feelings at this time of the year. For the rest of you fans who may be reading this, how about letting us know the prospects for your team in the comments, even if there're only based on Spring-fueled illusions (like mine).

More Family Blogging

The reddish tinge on the right side of this photo is some kind of technical messup on my part, but I think it adds to the charm of this photo. I assume most of you recognize the three urchins at rest?

Friday Family Quiz

Okay, this is another "where are they?" deal. I know the background is a little fuzzy, but I think there's enough visual information to prompt some good guesses. Maybe I should ask Sara to refrain from answering until others have a chance, but I think I may her stumped too, so have at it. Put your guesses in the comments.

Last week, you were asked to guess where the picture of Mom was taken, and Lizzie correctly identified the setting as Colonial Williamsburg from the 70s (actually, 1975). At least it took a few guesses before that answer came in. Good luck to everyone this week.

Friday Family Blogging

I thought Ben and Natalie especially might like to see this picture of their Mom from about 30 years ago. Is that the last time you had such long hair Sally?

Friday's Pearls of Wisdom

Jawaharlal Nehru (1889-1964) was the first prime minister of independent India. A disciple of Gandhi, he was a committed advocate of education and democracy. The following comes from the book he wrote in 1937 called The Unity of India:

"Long experience has taught us that it is dangerous
in the interest of truth to suppress opinion and ideas;
it has further taught us that it is foolish to imagine
that we can do so. It is far easier to meet an evil in
the open and defeat it in fair combat in people's minds,
than to drive it underground and have no hold on it
or proper approach to it. Evil flourishes far more
in the shadows than in the light of day."

Remembering Jimi Too

Okay, yesterday I posted a video of Otis Redding's performance from the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. Back then, he and Jimi Hendrix were the only participants to have portions of their sets released on record, making up what I referred to as the greatest live album of all time. So in the interests of equal time, here's one of Jimi's songs too (and you'll see how I copped the line about "hearts and ears" from him). Mom, you might want to skip this ;-):

A Favorite Painting 15

Pablo Picasso, Guernica 1937

Perhaps the most famous political painting of all time (or at least the twentieth century), Picasso's masterpiece captures the brutality of total war with stark emotion and serves as a devastating indictment of the evil of fascism. It memorializes an event from the Spanish Civil War, in which Hitler knowingly launched a massive attack against a civilian population (there was no military significance to Guernica-- no troops there, no supply depot, no train station, no strategic value) in a calculated attempt to break the will of Loyalists at the front lines trying to stop the advances of Franco and his forces, by eliminating that which they were fighting to protect. Hitler's plan failed, but that hardly diminished the viciousness of the attack. Picasso (a Spaniard, though not of Basque heritage like the people of Guernica) recognized this blatant inhumanity for what it was, and registered in this painting what should have been the shock of the entire world at the news of this infamous deed. The painting today occupies its own museum in Madrid (adjacent to the Prado), where one can view not only the enormous completed work, but also a series of sketches and drafts through which Picasso worked out the elements of the final version, which occupies an entire wall in the gallery. It still conveys the powerful emotions unleashed by such brutality, but it's sad that its implicit call to end the madness has gone largely unheeded by too many world leaders in the years since it was created.

p.s. I encourage you to click on the image above to get a larger view of the picture.

Baseball Stadiums I Have Visited, Part 8

Here's the last (at least for now) installment of my ongoing series on major league ballparks I have visited. With any luck, I 'll get a chance to add to the list as time goes on (realistic prospects for this summer include the Rogers Center in Toronto and the new park in Detroit, possibly one of the two new New York stadia). I'll have to start a new baseball series here soon-- maybe commenting on some favorite players of the past, but in the meantime...

16. Jacobs Field (Cleveland Indians)

It's funny that it took me such a long time to see a ballgame in Cleveland since, aside from Toronto, it is the closest major league city to where I grew up and lived most of my life (and even visit regularly now that I live on the other side of the country). But it was just three years ago that I finally got around to visiting, along with my friend Jeff, who you'll recall from earlier posts under this heading. We drove the three hours from Buffalo for a night game, and amazingly found a convenient place to park near the stadium, even despite arriving during rush hoour in the city. The stadium is another of those relatively new throwback parks, that values idiosyncrasy over conformity. Especially interesting was the leveled dining area overlooking left field (you can see the staggered glass design in the middle left edge of the above photo). The game itself was against Jeff's team, the Tigers, and featured what should have been a great pitching match between C.C. Sabathia for the home team and Jeremy Bonderman for the visitors. Bonderman lived up to the billing, but Sabathia broke down around the fifth inning and gave up four or five runs which, given the Indians somewhat woeful attack that day, was more than sufficient for a Tigers victory. What I recall most from the experience was the emotions displayed by the Indians faithful, lamenting yet another collapse by their team. One guy sitting near us seemed to think Sabathia was over the hill (at 26!), and clearly everyone was feeling betrayed by a team in which they had invested considerable hopes. Despite the bad feelings that night, by the end of July, the team turned things around and made a spirited run for the pennant, but not quite having enough to catch the White Sox in their somewhat miraculous season. It was a fun time at the game though, good food, easy access-- all those sorts of peripherals were positive. I'm looking forward to future visits (although I guess the place is no longer called Jacobs Field).

17. PNC Park (Pittsburgh Pirates)

The last major league park I visited was one of the most stunning, given the view it provides of the Allegheny River and Pittsburgh's downtown skyline. It's really a shame that, since the new stadium was built, the Pirates have never fielded a particularly good team. I mean, scenery will only fill the seats for so long. Once again I was accompanied by Jeff to a game, and we arrived along with some rain, which delayed the game's start by a couple of hours. We sat under the awning on teh first base side, along with a few other hardy souls, and watched a video of the 4th of July country music concert by Big and Rich that had been held at the stadium a couple days earlier. The gigantic screen was incredible, and once the concert footage ended we were treated to a classic Bugs Bunny cartoon, followed by some archival footage of the 1971 World Series (back in the glory days of Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, and the pre-fall Steve Blass). I doubt I've ever enjoyed a rain delay more. The game itself, once it started, was pretty good too, pitting Tom Gorzelanny of the Pirates (a good young pitcher having a breakout season) against Ben Sheets of the Brewers. The Pirates played well that day and came away with a victory. The rain delay put us behind schedule for the drive back, and we came to realize just how necessary a cell phone is these days when we found it virtually impossible to find a pay phone (or at least one that had comprehensible instructions for accessing long distance). Overall though, another fond memory of going to a ballgame.

That's all of them. I came close to seeing a pre-season game in Dodger Stadium a couple years ago, and may have another (somewhat long-shot) opportunity this year. I've driven by Coors Field in Denver a couple of times (but never when I might catch a game), Busch Stadium in St. Louis a couple times (intending to see a game, and now I can't remember why I didn't) and Rangers Stadium in Arlington (in November, so no chance to see a game there either). I think that among the places I have not been, I'm most interested in seeing Turner Stadium in Atlanta (since that's my team!) and the new stadium in San Francisco butting up against the waterfront. I don't know if I'll eventually make it to all of them, but it's nice to consider the prospect that I might.

Defining My Profession

Never mind that he was best known as a satirist (unless you want to credit satire as a display of insight), I think the Greek Lucian, who lived in the second century BC, had a pretty good idea of what a historian should be:

"The historian should be fearless and incorruptible,
a man of independence, loving frankness and truth;
one who, as the poet says, calls a fig a fig and a
spade spade. He should yield to neither hatred nor
affection, but should be unsparing and unpitying.
He should be neither shy nor deprecating,
but an impartial judge, giving each side all it deserves
but no more. He should know in his writings no
country and no city; he should bow to no authority
and acknowledge no king. He should never
consider what this or that man will think,
but should state the facts as they really occurred."

Remembering Otis Redding

Speaking of records (as I was in the previous post), let me nominate Otis Redding and Jimi Hendrix Live at the at Monterey International Pop Festival as the greatest live album of all time. One side Otis, one side Jimi, both in seminal performances that for all intents and purposes introduced each to the mainstream rock crowd of 1967. Portions of each performance were also captured in the documentary of the event filmed by D.A. Pennebaker. Here's a segment from the film of Redding's performance, which, if you have hearts and ears, ought to just whet your appetite for more:

On the Death of the 45 Single

Over the past couple of weeks I've made mention of ballparks closing, newspapers folding, comedy clubs disappearing... it seems like a lot of some core elements of our popular culture are evolving faster than anyone might have anticipated. Sometimes it's not such a bad thing-- almost all of the new ballparks are superior both aesthetically and commercially than those they replaced (though of course, in many instances, they result from average citizens funding major cash cows for the teams' owners, so it's hardly an unmitigated positive change). But usually these changes are cause for sadness. I just found out that the BMG Music Service (formerly the RCA Record Club, which at some point also absorbed the old Columbia Record Club) is shutting down. This was the outfit that always advertised "Buy 12 Records for a Penny" on the back of Parade magazine (and elsewhere). Obviously they've fallen victim to the same plight that has recently struck down so many record stores, including big chains like Tower and beloved independents like Home of the Hits in Buffalo, NY, Rodeo Records in Ellensburg Washington, and Big B's in Las Vegas... the list could go on and on. The fact is that people have largely stopped buying recorded music in physical form (as opposed to downloads in the form of binary code). As a longtime music collector, I mourn the loss of those older outlets (even the BMG Music Service, which I belonged to for many years just to take advantage of the once a year or so sale of "five for the price of one"). But the fact is, it was the music industry itself that cut it's own throat, and they did it out of greed and shortsightedness that makes their impending collapse almost poetic justice. There is a lot of evidence in support of that charge, and maybe I'll write some more about this as time goes on, but today I'll just mention one example of their incredible hubris: they wantonly killed the 45 single.

For years and years, the 45 record was the cornerstone of the industry. It provided two songs (one on each side) on a slab of 7 inch plastic. It was preceded by the 78 which was abit larger and thicker, but again, gave the consumer two songs, an a-side (the intended "hit") and a b-side (essentially a bonus for buying the popular side). They were cheap, somewhat portable, and they provided the perfect entre point for young consumers to get hooked on record collecting. But sometime in the late 1980's/early 1990's, as vinyl was being replaced by CD's, the record industry largely gave up on the 45 (and their seeming descendent, the CD single). It became incredibly difficult to find and buy the hit you heard on the radio unless you were prepared to shell out the inflated price of $15 or more for a full length album. Given the industry propaganda about how much superior digital technology was to the old analog product, consumers (for awhile) seemed willing to bite the bullet, but after awhile it became apparent that they were being ripped off. This is why people turned to downloading music-- once again they could select and purchase (or share) only the music they wanted to hear, and not go broke trying to stay up to date wit the hit parade. One can argue other aspects of the downloading issue with respect to things like copyrights and so forth, but the reality is that the industry as it was constructed twenty years ago ignored (or actively tried to stifle) this new delivery system rather than developing strategies to exploit it, and thus maintain some role in the shifting environment. In other words, they deserve to fail (much more so than retailers who were the most immediate victims of the companies' shortsighted policies).

In case this appears to be a troglodytic rant, bemoaning the cultural artifacts of my youth, let me assure you that I do not miss this other antiquated system of music delivery (also largely killed off by CDs and downloading):

Today's Philosophical Nugget

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1778-1830) is often recognized for his exposition on the dialectic method of philosophical inquiry. This little snippet suggests what might be seen as perhaps the core thesis- antithesis at play in human endeavor:

"This is the seal of the absolute and sublime
destiny of man-- that he knows what is good
and what is evil; that his destiny is his very
ability to will either good or evil."

Midweek Family Blogging

As I continue to scan old photos into digital files, I keep coming across gems like this one, which serves as a nice complement to my post yesterday about Safeco Field. This is Gerik from either my first or second visit to that ballpark (2000 or 2001-- I'm sure Lil Sis can narrow it down just from Gerik's cap ;-). It's possible that Gerik has been with me every time I've gone to a game there, and needless to say (for those who know him), always excellent company.

Historical Comment

Glenn Greenwald today has a column at Salon.com addressing the issue of journalistic deference to elected officials, sparked by some interesting reactions by the press to comments made by Obama press secretary Robert Gibbs in response to an interview done by Dick Cheney over the weekend with CNN. Greenwald, I feel safe in concluding, feels the deference is misplaced. In some ways this also corresponds to some of the reactions to Jon Stewart's takedown of Jim Cramer and CNBC last week, especially from other media outlets who seem not to grasp the comedic nature of Stewart's show (which airs, after all, on Comedy Central), or to see that the generally positive response to Stewart's takedown is at least partly relief that someone-- anyone-- in the media was willing to step forward and call someone on their errors.

Anyway, this reminded me of the Black Sox scandal in the 1919 World Series, when members of the heavily favored Chicago White Sox (pictured above) accepted money from gamblers to throw the series. I know that a sports story from 90 years ago seems pretty remote from the cases mentioned above, but there is a connection. In 1919, gambling in sports, and in baseball particularly, was a pretty common thing. Even the direct involvement of players was hardly unknown, and significant evidence exists that even such big names as Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker may have been implicated (albeit in meaningless late season games). There was one player named Hal Chase, who despite some real talent, was widely recognized as a bad seed who put himself (and his wallet) ahead of the team. The point I want to make is that the environment was ripe for something to happen on the scale of the Black Sox scandal largely because the reporters covering the game turned a blind eye to the festering corruption. They had invested so much in promoting the game, arguing its centrality as a cornerstone of "Americanism," that to identify any ethical or legal transgressions was apparently considered tantamount to admitting their own complicity in foisting a lie on the public. This protective attitude was no doubt partly built on their relationship with the players, with whom they traveled and worked on a daily basis-- in other words, they recognized a bond with their subject and not their audience, which I think is what has happened with a lot of our political reporting today. In the interests of preserving access to inside information, too much of the traditional press in Washington has become overly deferential, afraid to risk any insult that would leave them disconnected. There's nothing new in this, but in the wake of Watergate, one might have reasonably thought a more aggressive, more independent media might have emerged, Unfortunately, it seems that the next generations of reporters were inspired less by Woodward and Bernstein's rigorous work ethic (as described in their book All the President's Men) than the fact that their celebrity led to them to be depicted on the silver screen by Redford and Hoffman. At least Jon Stewart displays no pretensions about his place in the information food chain, even though his critics can't help but imagine he harbors the same naked self-interest that evidently motivates them.

Top Five List from Last Sunday's Show

Here's the Top Five List from Dr. John's Record Shelf on March 15. Anyone who may be reading this in the Beaverhead Valley of SW Montana can listen to the program live at 90.9 fm on Sunday evenings from 5 to 7 pm.

Tuesday's Great Thought

Back during the Gilded Age of the 1870s, Henry George emerged as a major critic of rampant industrialization and its impact on society, especially in relation to reshaping the underlying democratic social features of the United States. His book Progress and Poverty, from which the following quote is taken, became hugely influential on a wide range of reformers who sought to deal with the unchecked side effects of modern capitalism, and remains relevant today:

"So long as all the increased wealth which modern
progress brings goes but to build up great fortunes,
to increase luxury and make sharper the contrast
between the House of Have and the House of Want,
progress is not real and cannot be permanent."

The Genius of Paul Rhymer

Back in the 1930s, there was a radio show called Vic & Sade that was brilliant in depicting the simple humor of everyday life in Anytown USA. The series ran for about ten years and never involved more than just three or four cast members at any one time, most usually Victor and Sadie Gook, their son Rush and good old Uncle Fletcher. But the program was populated by an endless number of other neighbors, classmates, lodge members, and distant relatives all brought to life in the dialog between these main characters as written by the show's creator Paul Rhymer. If anyone ever doubted the capacity of radio to serve as a "theater of the imagination," this show as much as any exemplified the creative, and even moreso, the artistic potential of the medium. There were two books of Rhymer's scripts published back in the 1970s and are well worth hunting up in your local library; there are of course recordings of many of hte shows as well, and can be found via various vendors on the web. But I just stumbled across this video dramatization of one of Rhymer's scripts as performed by a university drama troupe, and they do the source material proud. This is very low-key stuff, but the humor just seeps from its naturalness and familiarity. Enjoy!

More on the Decline of Newspapers

A couple weeks back, I noted the death of the Rocky Mountain News in this post, and linked to an essay by Hal Crowther on the changes confronting contemporary journalism. Here's another good story, written by Clay Shirky, that speaks to the revolutionary nature of such changes, drawing comparisons between the current situation and the impact of the invention of the printing press back in the 15th century. If you are interested in the state of the media, it's worth taking a look; in fact it may provide some insight into how we think about other kinds of changes confronting society as time goes by. Shirky's take seems to be generating considerable attention-- I received it as an e-mail this morning and have already seen it linked to on a couple of other sites.

Political Comment (by proxy)

I'm not usually a big fan of Bill Maher, who often strikes me as taking the easy route in choosing his targets. But on occasion, he hits the nail on the head, as I think he did in this segment from his program that aired last week: