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...the Violin, that is. ;-D
David Garrett, a former model who has been called the David Beckham of the classical scene, said he tripped while carrying his 18th century violin as he was leaving London's Barbican Hall after a performance, smashing it to bits.
An unidentified witness swears "As God is my, Hic!, witness, I heard Mr. Garrent exclaim as he looked at the poor unfortunate instrument..."Oh, Fiddlesticks! ;-D
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Diary of the Day is one thing.
After a bit more than a month on Catster I am still learning my way around the Community, and trying to live up to THAT!
Now what?
Daddy and I awoke, this morning, to begin a typical day:
He went to check his e-mail.
I went to the top of my Cat Tree, and prepared to resume my interrupted nap. ;-D
Suddenly Daddy was jumping up and down and had a tear on his face as he smiled at me.
When your human is struck speechless, and can't tell you what the heck the fuss is about, the only thing a Cat can do is try to figure it out for himself.
I went and looked at the e-mail.
Make that 2 of us in shock!
I'm too excited to nap, now! :..-D
I don't know the criteria used for choosing me, but I am honored that I was, and hope that I can live up to this very special Honor, and the great Responsibility that having earned such recognition entails.
Thank You, Thank you, Catster!
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The wonderful Democracy in America By Alexis de Tocqueville is still relevant over 170 years later.
He published the book in 2 volumes (1835, 1840).
I own the Library of America Edition.
The first Volume is the more scholarly of the 2 what with its discussion of history, politics, and more, being butressed with statistics, and quotes galore.
The second volume is the the more philosophical of the 2 as the author delves into all sorts of issues, and subjects related to the society, culture, religion, politics, and more, of America, and is far from shy about expressing not only his philosophy, but his thoughts on the philosophies of the people of the United States.
That brings me to just one aspect of this book that is relevant today:
In the last 30 years religious belief has played a significant role in the shaping of American politics, and the so-called Culture Wars.
I'm not the most religious person around, despite the variety of beliefs practiced by various relatives I've lived around all my life, but that does not mean that I don't find the subject interesting, and learn much from reading books, articles, and Blogs of a religious nature.
In light of recent debates in the media, from the battle over religion on school, and college, campuses, Creationism vs. Evolution in our schools, to the ACLU's war against All Things Christmas, I found a chapter in Volume 2 of particular interest, along with a startling paragraph comparing Islam and Christianity that is very relevant to the America of today, and the last 30 years.
Powerful, thought provoking, writing of a sort rarely surpassed since, and reason enough for thoughtful people, interested in the future of our nation to consider reading this still relevant book.
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This book, by Donald Spoto, was written in 1997.
Spellbound, Notorious, Anastasia and many other films come to mind when one thinks of Bergman.
This is a detail packed book covering her personal amd professional life.
If you want to learn about her relationships, romantic and professional, how she developed and utilized her talent as an actress, and why people the world over admired, loved her and for a brief time despised her, then this is the book for you.
A wonderful collection of photographs is included, as well as an excellent Bibliography and collection of notes.
This is the story of an actress whose performances on screen and her life off the screen changed peoples ideas of what it was to be a woman, and is a must read for Movie fans.
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Thoughts on some Books about John Wayne that I have read:
JOHN WAYNE: American by Randy Roberts (1995)
His friends and fans simply call him Duke. More than 20 yrs. after his death he is still coming in 1st or 2nd in polls askings Americans who their favorite actor is. Why is this? Come on, he's dead already!
Beginning in 1930 with THE BIG TRAIL and ending in 1976 with THE SHOOTIST, DUKE has been bigger than life, a symbol to the world of the ruggedness, tough independence, personal conviction, and courage that make up the American character.
I love him not just because he was a great actor, but because he played roles that showed us an America to be proud of. He was the type of guy you wouldn't mind sitting with in a bar for a few drinks and, definitely, you'd love him at your back in a fight!
The authors of this book tell you everything you need to know to understand and appreciate John Wayne the way I and millions the world over do.
This meticulously researched, and well thought out story of the life of DUKE is a must. From his childhood to his college years, from his first job in Hollywood thru the incredible career he led as an actor, from one marriage to the next and his political views and activism all the way thru to his battle with the Big C this book is a gold mine.
An added plus are the extensive notes and bibliography sections and a complete chronological Filmography.
You will never look at John Wayne, the actor and the man, in the same way ever again.
John Wayne's America by Gary Wills (1998)
This book is essentially a discussion about an idea.
American values, and culture came to be influenced by the films and film roles of John Wayne, and the author explores that in great detail.
This book helped me understand why I admire the courage, resolution, dignity, and strength that his characters displayed, and why I admire Wayne's ability to disappear into the skin of whatever character he played.
Continue reading "John Wayne: The Man, The Actor, The Legend" »
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Words have meaning.
They can evoke the whole spectrum of emotions in those who read, or hear them.
They can inspire a person to great deeds, and to terrible ones as well.
And that's just your Credit card bill. :-)
Seriously, all manner of literature exists that this applies to.
One genre is that of Poetry.
From the simple, and short, to the long, and involved, the various forms of the Poetic Tradition have had a hold on our imaginations for thousands of years.
Consider the HAIKU:
3 Lines:
5 syllables.
7 syllables.
5 syllables.
America is
a nation of free people
paid for with our blood.
Consider the TANKA:
5 lines:
5 syllables.
7 syllables.
5 syllables.
7 syllables.
7 syllables.
God Bless this great land.
Home of the free, and the brave.
A Light unto all
in a time of great peril.
May it stand tall, and prevail.
And finally, consider the uniquely American equivalent of the Haiku.
The CINQUAIN:
5 lines:
2 syllables.
4 syllables.
6 syllables.
8 syllables.
2 syllables.
The choice
is an easy one
in picking President.
All Democrats gone but John Kerry.
Bush wins.
I'm issuing a challenge to the Blogosphere.
Put your thoughts about all things (Your Country here.) from A TO Z, from the arts, and environment, to culture and politics, the people, places, and things, all that is good, and great, unique and wonderful, confounding, and controversial, about your nation, in your personal opinion, into the lines of these simple poetic forms.
Traditionally Haiku begin with a natural scene tied to a season, and Tankas also begin with an observation of a natural scene.
But that's tradition, and you don't have to follow it, on any of these forms, if you don't want to.
Just avoid end-rhyming the lines, try to vary the rythms from line to line, and you can keep a sentence moving to the next line if you choose.
Also try to avoid ending too many lines in a row with a one-syllable word.
Got it? ;-D
If you use an entry of your blog to try your hand at this exercise, trackback to this post, or send me an e-mail, and I will do a round-up of links to all who take the challenge.
To anyone without a blog post your poems as a comment to this post.
If you decide to send me a poem, or 3, in e-mail, instead, I'll post a collection of those I get, and give credit where credit is due.
Don't be shy.
And bring a dictionary to check your syllables. ;-D
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As regular readers have no doubt figured out by now this is one of 2 blogs I write.
The other can be found by following the link under the picture of the bicycle in the sidebar.
Those readers who have been with me since long before October know that I had another blog for over 5 years before this one began.
One of the reasons I retired that one was to start fresh.
I wanted to find ways to expand on my creative writing side (Poetry, and more.), my book, TV, movie, music, and dining reviews, and culture, and community writing.
See my sidebar for the Archive Categories that share writings in those subjects.
Something happened recently that has given me a way to jumpstart this new direction with style.
I get e-mails... this one surprised, and intrigued me:
I SAW YOUR BLOG:
Hi. I'd love to invite you to attend a concert as a guest of the Pacific symphony. Then write about your experience on your blog. I am an advocate for live classical music and a supporter of the Pacific Symphony in the OC. Critics attend concerts and write about them. It would be interesting to have the fresh perspective of the citizen journalists writing about their experience at a concert. Please let me know if you are interested.
Thanks!
Kate Peters
Intrigued I replied, and learned that she is an author, performer, speaker, and advocate for the Pacific Symphony, and discovered my older blogging.
I, of course wanted to know...Why me? I told her a bit about my past, which I will also get into below, relevent to her invitation:
The reason I chose to send you the invitation is because 1) I liked that you comment on culture, have an educated opinion about things, and are a music fan. Now that I know you are also a violinist, that cinches it. 2.)
Your blog was on a list I found as one of the best blogs in the OC.
I liked your style and thought you might be game to join in our new "press corps". Finally, now that you have written to me and I know more about you, I think you HAVE to participate because you would like it.
What insired her idea? An interest in blogging herself, plus the example of the San Francisco Symphony:
The folks up north recognized the importance of bloggers as "new" journalists and invited a group citywide to attend concerts for free in exchange for writing about their experience.
The theory was that by doing so they would increasing awareness of their programs and even develope some new audiences.
She believes that inviting OC bloggers to Pacific Concerts and their passing the word along about what the concert experience is like was a logical thing to attempt.
"I realize that it might not always be a good one for people, or just like other critics, bloggers may say things we don't like to hear, but it's important to expand and try new things if an organization is going to stay alive and growing."
"Press Corp" is her nickname for her project.;-D
It is not out of the ordinary to invite and give tickets to journalists, she says, but it strikes me as a bold step to include bloggers, the so called "New" Journalists, among those worthy of consideration.
In recent years, PoliBloggers, and MilBloggers, have been courted in similar ways, and I in my capacity of being one of the oldest, and most respected, of BikeBloggers, have suddenly been sought out by those in the cycling industry, in the last 2 years as well.
Other Niche Bloggers are also coming in for their share of attention, and courting, and this is very cool in my book.
I am one of 5 bloggers, so far, invited to participate.
So what of my Music Credentials? Glad I asked! ;-D
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A couple of weeks ago Daddy got me a leash!
So now this Cheshire Cat can venture out into the world with Daddy. ;-D
Here I am trying on my new leash at home.
Very cool, don't you think? ;-D
Daddy and I then went out for a Stroll near where we live, after the rain stopped. ;-D
It rained during the afternoon, but when it finally stopped Daddy and I headed out.
I knew the outdoors was a vast, amazing place, full of noise, big machines, and lots of other humans, but taking a journey, though short, outside the confines of my carrier, was...different.
The sidewalk was cold to the touch of my paws, and when we crossed the street Daddy carried me.
The humans looked at us kind of funny.
I guess they have never heard of Cheshire Cats (We ARE extremely rare, afterall.) or thought we only existed in books or movies (Trivia: The one in the old movies was NOT an actor playing a role with the help of special effects.) ;-D
When Daddy told me that there was a golf course where all that water was rushing toward, I had to laugh at the strangeness of it, but Daddy says the place is popular when dry, so who am I to judge. ;-D
The wind ruffled my fur, and was cool on my face, but felt very good all the same.
All in all, a very pleasant experience.
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Daddy used to have a T-Shirt that said "Real Men Admit They Love Cats".
Well we Cats love humans too, but we just sometimes have a peculiar way of showing it. :-D
I am not the 1st Cat in his life, and no-doubt won't be the last, if I go to the Rainbow Bridge before he does.
This post is about 1 particular Cat, a poor struggling thing who, despite our well-intentioned best efforts, was unable to adapt to a life of ease, and comfort.
The story I am about to share will bring on strong emotions, so bring a box of tissue:
HELLO KITTY!
MAXIMUS came from the streets, in July 2001, fighting and scratching like the Cinema Roman Gladiator he is named after.
On July 2nd of that year a tiny, curious , hungry, 2 month old look alike to me showed up on our porch and stared through the screen door at us, meowing softly.
He darted a few feet away as Daddy came out on to the porch, then ran off when he made a move toward him.
He came back 3 times that evening, and several times the next morning.
That afternoon Daddy put a bowl of water out on the porch, and he came and went a few more times.
As darkness came Daddy propped open the screen door and moved the water back close to it.
He sat just inside the house and let me climb all over him, but not out the door.
The kiiten came cautiously to the water but as soon as Daddy made an attempt to touch him he darted off.
This went on until midnite when Daddy and I both surrendered and went to bed.
In the morning we found him sleeping on the porch, but he ran off again.
Daddy got out the butterfly on a string and sitting on the porch with the water near, but not close to him, began an on and off again game with the kitten.
When he got tired he would sleep, but would dart off into the bushes if Daddy tried to pick him up.
We had 3 days of this to decide that this night would be the last.
Daddy looked at me and said "If the little one wants to stick around so badly then he was gonna come into the house come hell or high water, darn it!"
This night was cooler, and Daddy locked me in the bedroom because, for his plan to work, the screen had to be wide open.
Daddy played with him some more, and at midnite he dashed off again.
Daddy fell asleep on the floor just indoors from the porch, in his shorts and a t-shirt. Not a pretty sight, I imagine, but hey, this was WAR!!!
5 am, JULY 5TH ( Based on how Daddy told it to me immediately afterward, and on what I could hear thru the closed door):
Daddy awakened to find the kitten asleep on the porch shivering in a lite drizzle.
He keep still and watched...
After a half hour he awakens, looks at Daddy, and walks, calm as you please, to the water bowl, now sitting next to Daddy just outside the door.
He turns his back on Daddy, tail in the air, to have his fill of water.
Suddenly Daddy POUNCES!!!
He grabs his tail, and stands up!
The kitten let's loose a Bloodcurdling SCREECH and, claws and teeth unleashed, latches onto Daddy's hand and arm in anger and terror!
From my perspective, unable to see anything from within the room I was locked in, it sounded positively horrible in there!
Meanwhile Daddy turned, and, with a loud and hearty Ouch! Shit! That hurt you little F***!! (I heard that, and uttered my own "What the ?" under my breath as the ruckus continued.), threw the little one into the living room behind him, and shut the doors and windows!!
The next 15 minutes were utter chaos.
Daddy dashed to the bathroom looking to see how badly he was mauled, thereby letting ME out of the bedroom!
I walked into the room, curious to see what all the noise was about and was confronted with a furious ball of fur running around the living room in circles, at times literally climbing the walls in a futile bid to escape.
I took one look around at this madness, and calmly went and sat in the kitchen window to leisurely enjoy the spectacle.
Once Daddy determined that the numerous bites and scratches weren't immediately life threatening he checked on the little beastie.
He had tired himself out and was cowering in a corner.
When Daddy stepped toward him he dashed into the bedroom, which is what Daddy wanted him to do.
Closing the door behind him, Daddy sat on the living room floor, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until he was crying his eyes out.
I named the feisty little kitten, who looked like me, on the spot, after hearing from Daddy what happened while I was locked in the other room, and Daddy wholeheartedly agreed.
The Battle was over, but the War had just begun...
Maximus, was maybe a month older than I was when I came into Daddy's life, but he had none of the breaks.
The humans have a saying that begins with "There but for the grace of..."
I was born in March 1998 and not long afterwards my Mom, and her litter, found themselves in a cage at the Humane Society.
One day, a month later, the human who became my Best Bud wandered in and when I saw him I just KNEW we were destined for each other.
Maximus was not so lucky.
2 months in the wild had marked his consciousness, and the startling way he was brought in from the cold didn't make for a good beginning to his new life.
Over the next year and 7 months Daddy and I did our best to help him adapt to his new life.
He got his shots, and was fixed, and I introduced him to the pleasures of toys, catnip, and a life of leisure, doing my best to be a mentor to him just as Tom had been for me, during the short time I knew him, after I was brought home.
At times our efforts seemed to be working its magic on him.
He gradually became used to his new surroundings, and while not entirely forgetting his previous life, quit trying to escape back to it.
He often sat in the window, gazing outside with, it seemed to me, a sad look on his face, and I knew he was thinking of his parents and siblings, and life in the wild, but he never talked of those days, not once.
Though a curious Cat and more or less friendly and sometimes playful, he hated to be handled, disliked the Cat Carrier, and often was very moody and aloof as well, sometimes retreating into his own world for 2 or 3 days at a time.
Sadly, I have no pictures to share, but he WAS truly a Mini-Me, though just different enough so Daddy could tell us apart. ;-D
We should have seen it coming, but did not, and when the end came it was traumatic all the way around...
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Hello, dear reader, it's time for a bit more of my back story. ;-D
It's been almost 7 years since I last wrote an entry in my memoirs, and the best excuse I can give for my writer's block is that at first it was just exhaustion from writing the latest of 22 chapters, but it eventually came down to being pre-occupied with caring for and worrying about Daddy as his work life took a turn for the worse at that time.
I wish I could say that I had all 22 chapters saved on file, but I don't. At the time I wrote them Daddy was still learning many of the ins and outs of his computer (And so was I!), and besides, we never gave a 2nd thought to saving what I posted on the old HOWLING WOLVES BOARD from Entertainment Weekly.com.
Maybe we should have. Think of the possibilities for a book or something, who knows?
Anyway, today I want to share with you the only piece left from those days. Luckily it is the last one so makes it easy for me to prepare for continuing from where I left off as well as maybe trying to re-write those missing 21 chapeters.
I never thought about starting over, until now, because I felt I couldn't duplicate the quality of writing I brought to those stories. I felt it was best I carry on from where I left off, but am re-thinking that in light of my blogging.
Where I left off works as a good place to introduce you to my story because the period covered marked a new beginning in my life.
I would like to dedicate these chapters to the memory of my Mentor, Tom (1986-1998), who you will meet, and see here, for the first time, in the only pictures Daddy has from all the 12 years of Tom's often rough life.
TOM was an outdoor Cat Daddy's family had since birth, who took to the indoors, at his insistence, when he took charge of him in the last 3 years or so of his life.
He lived only a few short months more after I entered his life, long enough to impart his hard fought for wisdom into this young whippersnapper, before passing on.
Let me begin with a PROLOGUE that led into the much more lengthy main piece itself....
Hello dear reader, when last we gathered here our weeks old hero had just been introduced to his new home environment, exploring the unfamiliar sights of a bedroom cut off from the rest of the house, and ending up under the bed to get his bearings....
After a few minutes I started calling out "where are you?"
Not knowing what I said, but responding to my frantic cry, the person I came to eventually call DADDY beckoned me out of hiding with some things that were reasuringly familiar: Dry food, water, and "Oh Happy Day!" a litter box!
I suddenly realized just how badly I needed to...well, use your imagination. As I tended to business and then chowed down, I never noticed Daddy leaving the room. I slept under the bed for 3 hours, so content and at peace was I that I felt I could face anything.
Suddenly I awoke to the sound of loud, insistent scratching at the door to my sanctuary, and an even louder voice saying, "Who's there? Let me in, Damn it!"
Over, and over, and over...
I shivered under the bed in terror...
And now to continue...
Continue reading "Tales From The Litter Box: Welcome to My Memories" »
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