Category: Books

“Baby’s Back”

I watched the second episode of “Edge of the Earth – Raging Torrent”, on HBO on Sunday night.  This was an expedition by three crazy kayakers (Ben Stookesberry, Nouria Newman, and Erik Boomer) down the Chalupas river in Ecuador’s vast Llanganates National Park.  They were attempting to be the first to complete the entire 10,000 foot descent of the river through the park.

The kayakers had no map, guide, and only one point of emergency access to the outside world, and as you can imagine had to overcome every kind of hurdle imaginable.  The main challenge was unforecasted heavy rain for many days – making the more tricky parts of the river unpassable.  This necessitated “portage” – getting out of the river and walking for days through the jungle carrying all their equipment.  I won’t spoil your potential enjoyment by sharing how this all ended, but do highly recommend this show based on the first two episodes.

Denny took Anne to Satchmo (Louis Armstrong) fest to kick off her birthday week.  I like this creative picture of the Pinettes brass band that she took:

I got my D back on Tuesday night – her flight was actually early.  She seemed pleased with the house cleaning performed prior to her arrival and inspection – new napkin under coffee makers, cleaned up tables outside, wiped down counters, and cleaned shared bathrooms.  I had advertised a project that I was working on in her absence, and estimated that it would take her a few days to find it.  As of Thursday afternoon, it still hadn’t been found.  Diana gave up on Thursday evening, and I revealed the repair job that I had done on the worn out sofa section behind my head.  “Cheap and tacky looking,” was the encouraging response.  Well – over the course of two days she hadn’t noticed, so it can’t be that bad.

Will and Christine were looking for Heather’s address – she recently moved into a new house.  The address is on “Snibble Gardens.”  This generated a chuckle from McD.  I proceeded to educate her that a “snibble” is similar to a haggis – three-legged and dwelling in mountainous areas.  She wasn’t buying and looked up the definition:

I came across the British TV series “C. B. Strike” this week and have enjoyed the first few episodes.  Strike is a private investigator with an interesting history and a modern day Sherlock Holmes type of approach.  I shared the show with Diana on Wednesday evening, gave her a brief summary of the main characters and investigation that had happened over the first three episodes, believing each investigation to be stand alone, and watchable without having seen the first few episodes.  After some grousing about me always watching the first few episodes of shows and then expecting her to try and catch up, she settled in and enjoyed the show quite a bit – just as I predicted.

The episodes were about a murder that had happened in the London literary community.  One of the key findings in the investigation was that a piece of writing had many Oxford commas – and therefore was not in the style of the assumed author.  I had to research the Oxford comma – come to find out I use it quite a bit.  Here’s an example from earlier in this posting:

“new napkin under coffee makers, cleaned up tables outside, wiped down counters, and cleaned shared bathrooms.”  That last comma after “counters” and before “and” is an Oxford comma.  How many of you really knew about the name for this phenomenon?

The show is definitely worth a look:

We had a historically significant event on Wednesday night while watching C.B. Strike – it rained.  Rained for the  first time in 67 days – a massively new record.  No more precipitation in sight for at least the next week – just 100 degree temperatures every day.

I went to Apex for an indoor run on Thursday morning – breaking 2 miles for the first time in a while.  It is much easier to run in air conditioning with a soft track underfoot.  That activity reminded me of this cartoon in the New Yorker – maybe McD and I will finally become a couple that reliably runs together.  Then it was back to annual budget work in the afternoon – hoping that will come to a close soon one way or the other.

We made an attempt at being a “couple who run together” again on Saturday, with a trip to Apex for more indoor running.  I managed to eke out 2.5 miles this time.  I spent Saturday afternoon out by the pool, reading one of my books with McD.  She likes it when I accompany her sunbathing expeditions under my shade.

In New Orleans, Anne celebrated the morning of her birthday by watching the Red Dress Run, put on by Lafitte’s bar.  Kenny and Kara’s daughter and Kelly’s sons participated in the event.  There’s always something entertaining to watch in that city.

Today started with my typical swim.  I may rejoin Diana by the pool as it doesn’t look too unbearably hot out and I have another good looking book to read.

Ian McEwan is one of my top three favourite authors, and so I was excited to see his short story, “A Duet”, in the New Yorker this week:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2022/08/08/a-duet

There is also an online interview with McEwan on the story and his upcoming book, “Lessons”, to be published in September:

https://www.newyorker.com/books/this-week-in-fiction/ian-mcewan-08-08-22

My first book this week was quite different.  “Entangled Life – how fungi make our worlds, change our minds & shape our futures,” by Merlin Sheldrake is a lovely book about what the title says – how important fungi are to our natural existence.  I haven’t finished this book yet, so will reserve any quotes until I do.  I do highly recommend this to anyone with an interest in nature – a completely different and thoroughly engaging read.  Here’s the online summary:

“When we think of fungi, we likely think of mushrooms. But mushrooms are only fruiting bodies, analogous to apples on a tree. Most fungi live out of sight, yet make up a massively diverse kingdom of organisms that supports and sustains nearly all living systems. Fungi provide a key to understanding the planet on which we live, and the ways we think, feel, and behave.

In Entangled Life, the brilliant young biologist Merlin Sheldrake shows us the world from a fungal point of view, providing an exhilarating change of perspective. Sheldrake’s vivid exploration takes us from yeast to psychedelics, to the fungi that range for miles underground and are the largest organisms on the planet, to those that link plants together in complex networks known as the “Wood Wide Web”,  to those that infiltrate and manipulate insect bodies with devastating precision.

Fungi throw our concepts of individuality and even intelligence into question. They are metabolic masters, earth makers, and key players in most of life’s processes. They can change our minds, heal our bodies, and even help us remediate environmental disaster. By examining fungi on their own terms, Sheldrake reveals how these extraordinary organisms – and our relationships with them – are changing our understanding of how life works.”

My next book was “Tracy Flick Can’t Win” by Tom Perrotta.  I read this in one sitting by the pool with Diana on Saturday afternoon – so you can tell it’s a quick and easy read.  I did enjoy the book, but it is very lightweight, not really living up to all the glowing reviews I read.  Many chapters sounded like pages of a script – Perrotta has had several novels made into films, and I wonder if he doesn’t write with that in mind now.  I would certainly recommend this as a pleasant pool/beach read.  Here’s the online review:

“Tracy Flick is a hardworking assistant principal at a public high school in suburban New Jersey. Still ambitious but feeling a little stuck and underappreciated in midlife, Tracy gets a jolt of good news when the longtime principal, Jack Weede, abruptly announces his retirement, creating a rare opportunity for Tracy to ascend to the top job.

Energized by the prospect of her long-overdue promotion, Tracy throws herself into her work with renewed zeal, determined to prove her worth to the students, faculty, and School Board, while also managing her personal life—a 10-year-old daughter, a needy doctor boyfriend, and a burgeoning meditation practice. But nothing ever comes easily to Tracy Flick, no matter how diligent or qualified she happens to be.

Among her many other responsibilities, Tracy is enlisted to serve on the Selection Committee for the brand-new Green Meadow High School Hall of Fame. Her male colleagues’ determination to honor Vito Falcone—a star quarterback of dubious character who had a brief, undistinguished career in the NFL—triggers bad memories for Tracy, and leads her to troubling reflections about the trajectory of her own life and the forces that have left her feeling thwarted and disappointed, unable to fulfill her true potential.

As she broods on the past, Tracy becomes aware of storm clouds brewing in the present. Is she really a shoo-in for the Principal job? Is the Superintendent plotting against her? Why is the School Board President’s wife trying so hard to be her friend? And why can’t she ever get what she deserves?”

Apparently there is an earlier novel that follow Tracy Flick as a student.  Maybe I’ll take that on my next beach visit – rumoured to be in late October.

I stumbled across an excellent album this week – “Dylan’s Gospel” is the only studio album by The Brothers & Sisters of L.A., a group of vocalists working as session musicians in the Los Angeles area during the album’s recording in June 1969. The Brothers & Sisters of L.A. was organized by Lou Adler specifically to record the album.  Members of the group included Merry Clayton (of “Ten Feet from Stardom” fame) and Gloria Jones.

I continue to enjoy the most recent Caamp album quite a bit:

The next Tipitinas record club release is from Johnny Adams – hadn’t heard of him before and based on initial research think I’m going to enjoy it:

This Jon and Vangelis song made it on to something I was watching the other night.  I used to play this album all the time and get frustrated with the poor pressing quality – time to revisit in digital:

That’s Dick Morrisey on the saxophone.  He was pretty famous in the early 60s London jazz scene – the famous Ronnie Scott’s jazz club apparently only kept open by the crowd he drew in.  He had a duo with Jim Mullen, Glaswegian member of the Average White Band – I haven’t been able to track down any of their recordings yet.

Ahh, here we go, found some albums on Youtube – nothing too exciting, pretty standard 80s jazz fusion with interesting slap bass and drums:

Coexist peacefully with kindness and compassion for all!

“Home Alone, Again”

We dropped Tim and Dee at the San Francisco airport on Monday morning, and then drove back to Clorinda’s home to relax and regroup.  I had a short Board meeting update in the afternoon, and then we braved all the kids at Amy and Adamo’s home.  They were in typical bouncing off the walls form.  Amy made us some delicious soup for dinner and we called it an early evening.

My Tuesday began early with the time difference – a four hour Board meeting starting at 6am – hooray!  Thankfully the news for the quarter was all good and so the meeting was relatively benign.  Everyone at work is in a good mood with our positive results and the impact those have had on our stock price.

McD dropped me at the airport in the afternoon and I was back home in McKinney by 8:30pm.  I enjoyed the “Family Squares” movie on the flight – a somewhat black humour take on families communicating over Zoom.

After all the corporate Board meetings and earnings announcements, I was ready to hang out with the rich and pretty people at Dan’s Silverleaf in Denton on Thursday night.  Just kidding – it’s a dive music venue filled with people who love and appreciate the same kind of music that I do.  Kevin Galloway was doing a release party for his new album “Secondhand Starlight.”  He recorded the album with Austin band Doug Strahan and the Good Neighbors, and they were the backing band for the evening.  They opened the show with a varied set of songs – great musicians:

Galloway joined the band after about 45 minutes and put on an excellent show all around.  Diana and I saw him solo (or with cello) in Austin a few times – this was a much more lively event (although it did include Gumby on the cello for a few songs.)

I always enjoy “Taking in the View”, a Galloway song that he originally performed with Uncle Lucius – perhaps his most famous composition:

And lastly, “Keep the Wolves Away”, a song about Galloway’s father surviving a chemical accident in Galveston.  This was the only song with accordion and I think the combination of that and the cello really add to the haunting nature of the lyrics:

If you’d like to hear a story about that song and how Galloway has made some good money and obtained a gold record, courtesy of the “Yellowstone” TV series, then check this version out:

What a beautiful night of music – great musicians, sound mixing, venue, people – and all for $20.  Well worth the 40 minute drive over to Denton – and all those traffic lights on highway 380 – there must be at least 30 of them.

Friday was a relatively busy work day for me. I met up with Finn for lunch and enjoyed his stories about work.  He’s changed his shift so that he works a bit later in the afternoon, with the goal of training the “closers” properly so that things are set up properly when he gets there in the morning.  I think every time I talk with him he’s working on some kind of improvement idea.  So nice to see.

Meanwhile Diana slaved away in the Pacifica kitchen, making special Florentine cookies for patient Marco.  She had to work hard to make sure that Clorinda didn’t snag too many.

I count six batches – that’s a very busy D!  Here’s a video of Clorinda selecting “her cookies.”

Olivia joined them in the evening to celebrate her birthday.

There was a near “incident” when Diana went out for her run on the hill on Saturday morning.  On her way back down the hill, I’m sure at top speed, she spotted the momma bobcat and babies in front of her.  When I received the text update, I recommended going back up the hill and waiting a while, or having Alicia pick her up in a car.  I got back a “Yeah, doing that”, with the implication of “I’m not a complete idiot.”  Or maybe I just read that into it.  Either way – D made it safely back to Clorinda’s home without incident.

Having avoided the “incident”, Diana drove down to visit Julie (day after her major surgery) and Marco.  She reported that Julie is doing surprisingly well, although in a decent amount of pain.  Oh – and she delivered the cookies (or those that Clorinda hadn’t snagged) to Marco.

Aimee met up with Diana at Clorinda’s home on Saturday night – it sounds like they had a nice time catching up until the wee hours.

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I was planning to read one section of George Saunders “A Swim in a Pond in the Rain” each week.  I’ve been delinquent for a few weeks, but did complete one “lecture” this week.  As a reminder, this is a book that follows Saunders’ class at Syracuse University.  The subject this week was “The Singers”, a short story by Ivan Turgenev from 1852.

The gist of this story is that two guys are having a singing contest in a remote bar.  Turgenev goes into a lot of detail on various characters who seem superfluous to the plot, but Saunders explains why they are not necessarily so.  The detail on the singing contest is quite moving, one contestant is very technical while the other doesn’t have the same skills but conveys much more emotion, ultimately winning the contest.  It reminded me of my thoughts about Andy Wood who I saw doing a clinic at the Guitar Sanctuary a couple of weeks ago – a great guitar shredder who really didn’t do anything for me.  I compare that to the guitarist in the Jerry Garcia cover band that I saw two Sundays ago – he probably couldn’t play as fast but certainly did a great job of capturing the emotion of the songs.

“What does it mean, that Yashka has won?  To answer, we try to distill the essential characteristics of the two performances.  Broadly speaking:  the contractor was technically wonderful but produced no feeling in his audience except amazement at his proficiency.  Yashka, a little wobbly on technique, evoked undeniably deep feelings in his audience and caused a startling, not entirely rational memory to arise in the mind of the narrator.  So, we feel the story to be saying something about technical proficiency vs. emotional power, and coming down in favor of the latter.  It is saying that the highest aspiration of art is to move the audience and that if the audience is moved, technical deficiencies are immediately forgiven.”

I really enjoyed the way Saunders broke down this short story.  He was originally an engineer, and created a table by page of useful insights that mattered to the singing contest outcome.  He reports that when first asked about this story, his students typically respond that there are too many diversions and irrelevant details.  He then goes ahead and rebuts that (very convincingly) over many pages.

I would have enjoyed studying English with Saunders.  Is it too late?

I also enjoyed a couple of stories from Lauren Groff’s short story collection, “Florida.”  She is such a wonderful writer and conjures up such wonderful pictures of her native state.

Here’s what Goodreads has to say:

“The stories in this collection span characters, towns, decades, even centuries, but Florida—its landscape, climate, history, and state of mind—becomes its gravitational center: an energy, a mood, as much as a place of residence. Groff transports the reader, then jolts us alert with a crackle of wit, a wave of sadness, a flash of cruelty, as she writes about loneliness, rage, family, and the passage of time. With shocking accuracy and effect, she pinpoints the moments and decisions and connections behind human pleasure and pain, hope and despair, love and fury—the moments that make us alive.”

I have a long way to go in this collection, but based on the first couple of stories, I give it two thumbs up and am looking forward to digging into more.  Maybe this afternoon – after I finish up a project that I need to have done before McD returns.

I spent a decent amount of time listening to Radio Paradise this week.  This is a radio station that plays a very wide variety of music that I mostly enjoy – with a very high bitrate stream that sounds great.  Here’s one from their “Mellow Mix:”

Here’s another from the same source, this time from a Scottish band named “Admiral Fallow.”  You can hear the accent clearly – not quite at Proclaimers level though.

And the last one from the Radio Paradise sessions.  I always enjoy songs by Eels:

Coexist patiently with kindness and compassion for all!

“Home Alone”

I watched the movie “Georgetown” on Sunday night.  This stars Christoph Waltz, Vanessa Redgrave, and Annette Benning, and is directed by Waltz.  I really enjoyed the performances by all three, Waltz is particularly excellent as a consummate conman, leveraging a single, tenuous relationship to gain entry to all kinds of supposed partnerships.

My movie on Monday and Tuesday night (it’s a lengthy one) was “All the Way.”  This stars Bryan Cranston as President LBJ in his first year – working to pass the Civil Rights bills into law.  Cranston is excellent and the depiction of all the various factions – Martin Luther King Jr., Southern Democrats, Liberal Democrats, friendly Republicans – and  the ways that LBJ brings them on board are fascinating.  I really enjoyed this one.

Clorinda finally made a trip to the library on Tuesday afternoon.  Diana and Caroline have been encouraging her to visit as it’s getting quite expensive to keep her in books – but she keeps finding an excuse not to go.  No options provided this time – Diana just told her it was time to go.  And what do you know? – she had a good time and came home with a nice stack of reading material.  Then couldn’t wait to dive in.

The other interest in Pacifica was around the removal of a whale which had washed up on the Sharp Park beach – and was visible from Clorinda’s house.  Quite the operation to get it back out to sea.

Wednesday morning excitement was getting my teeth cleaned – all smooth, no other work necessary.  I had a pleasant Couch to 5K outing at the Apex center at lunchtime to avoid the 106 degree temperatures outside – down from 110 degree records the last couple of days.  Whew!

I coordinated an oil change for Finn’s car on Thursday afternoon and took him for a coffee while the work was being done.  I know – very exciting and he’s totally spoiled.  In the evening I watched the first episode of a new HBO series, “The Edge of the Earth.”

This episode followed two snowboarders and a skier as they attempted to be the first to descend a ridge of a mountain in Glacier Bay National Park, Alaska.  The photography was amazing – making me feel queasy on the couch as they climbed up the snow and ice covered narrow ridge, and then turned around and skied back down it.  An amazing hour of television that made me wonder what drives people to do these highly risky and unnecessary things.  I’m looking forward to checking out the remaining episodes.

After that I listened to some music while reading.  This album cover of Tommy Malone’s got me thinking.  “I wonder where that background is – looks very familiar.”

Then it came to me – it’s a wall mural that we saw in San Miguel de Allende on Denny’s 50th birthday trip.  Anado is an amazing artist from Oklahoma, now making his home there, and offering a very unique tour of the art around his garden.  I remember him mentioning how much he enjoyed Tommy’s music.

I sent Anado an email asking him if there was an interesting story behind the album cover.  Nothing back yet.

Friday was pretty quiet – went for a swim in the afternoon, visited the library, and picked up some cigars for the boys to enjoy on the Sonoma trip.  I was surprised to find how much of a busy place the cigar lounge was – several groups in there chatting, and folks working on laptops while enjoying their cigars.  Note to self.

I enjoyed a relaxing Saturday.  Morning reading, a run at Apex, piano practice, and then I made a trip up to the Guitar Sanctuary for a workshop by Andy Wood.  I enjoyed his stories and demonstrations but not necessarily his constant “shredding” – showing off how incredibly fast he can play.  It just doesn’t feel musical to me – at least not if you do it all the time as a default style.  Here’s one of his songs so that you can see what I mean:

Our local guitar here, Andy Timmons, was in the audience and I think Andy Wood was a bit nervous, thinking Timmons is actually a more accomplished guitar player.  I think he might be right:

Timmons was the musical director for many of Olivia Newton John’s tours, and played in a glam metal band, Danger Danger, in the eighties that sold over a million albums.

On Saturday evening I watched “The Gray Man” movie.  This stars Ryan Gosling, Billy Bob Thornton, and Ana de Armas, and felt very like a poor man’s Bond movie – even down to the soundtrack theme.  One crisis after another for Ryan to fight his way out of.  The highlight for me was the first 90 seconds, featuring the wonderful “Lochloosa” by JJ Grey.

Earlier on Saturday afternoon, I thought the performance by Sydney McLaughlin in the women’s 400 meter hurdles at the World Athletic Championships was amazing.  So far ahead of the field as she destroyed the world record.  Didn’t even look like there were hurdles on her lane.

Sunday began with a nice long swim – I broke a mile for the first time in a long while.  In the afternoon I put on my Jerry shirt and made a trip down to Deep Ellum for the second weekend in a row.  This time to see Rosebud, a Jerry Garcia Band tribute group, at the Deep Ellum Art Co.  This was a new venue for me and I thought it was excellent.  Just the right size, with great sound and a good attitude.  It also had a huge art patio – bit hot for that just now.

Here’s some of the funky art on display and in mural form:

That’s my best Hitchcock in the 2nd to last photo.

And now for the music – Rosebud were excellent – perfect sound and excellent musicianship all around.  Here’s my favourite – “Deal”:

An excellent guitar solo in the middle of “Deal” – this is how you build a solo Andy Wood:

Jerry always loved his Dylan covers.  Here’s “Positively 4th Street”:

And another lovely solo:

What a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon!  I drove by Campbell’s birth place on my drive home:

I read a couple of quite strange and different books this week.  The first was “When We Were Birds” by Ayanna Lloyd Banwo, a writer from Trinidad and Tobago who is now based in Norwich, England.  The writing is in the local Trinidadian dialect and takes a bit of getting used to.  Here’s the summary:

“In the old house on a hill, where the city meets the rainforest, Yejide’s mother is dying. She is leaving behind a legacy that now passes to Yejide: one St Bernard woman in every generation has the power to shepherd the city’s souls into the afterlife. But after years of suffering her mother’s neglect and bitterness, Yejide is looking for a way out.
 
Raised in the countryside by a devout Rastafarian mother, Darwin has always abided by the religious commandment not to interact with death. He has never been to a funeral, much less seen a dead body. But when the only job he can find is grave digging, he must betray the life his mother built for him in order to provide for them both. Newly shorn of his dreadlocks and his past, and determined to prove himself, Darwin finds himself adrift in a city electric with possibility and danger.
 
Yejide and Darwin will meet inside the gates of Fidelis, an ancient and sprawling cemetery, where the dead lie uneasy in their graves and a reckoning with fate beckons them both.”

Quite a different read but not something I would recommend.

My second book was “Tanqueray” by Brandon Stanton.  He writes a regular blog titled “Humans of New York” that chronicles the various interesting characters he comes across during his travels in New York city.  He met Tanqueray on the street one day and discovered her to be a hugely interesting character, now in her late seventies.  The two met regularly and Stanton captured stories of Tanqueray’s life.  That’s a stage name she had as a burlesque dancer in the 70s and 80s.

This was a crazy journey through a wild world.  A fun and very quick read for anyone not easily offended.

I enjoyed this video featuring one of my favourite songs, “Simple Man.”  A guitar player is doing a show in a park in Saratoga, FL and convinces a passerby to sing with him.  Very good job!

This Derek Trucks interview by Rick Beato was a bit of a revelation.  I’ve seen him perform 5 times now, and never heard him utter a word on stage.  Here he is quite garrulous and happy to share all kinds of interesting information.

I mentioned Tommy Malone earlier.  Here are a couple of my favourites:

Dawes released an excellent new album this week – they have such an interesting sound – modern but with all kinds of 70s references:

Coexist with kindness and compassion for all!

“Albert Lee!”

When I left you last week, we were off to the movies – Diana’s first since COVID began.  We enjoyed “Top Gun Maverick” very much.  At over two hours long, we were a bit nervous, but things didn’t drag at all.  The linkage to the 1986 original was very well done on several fronts – Goose’s son saving the day, Iceman (Val Kilmer) as the Admiral in charge, and Jennifer Connely as the bar owner.  We highly recommend seeing this on the big screen.

I dragged Diana (might be a bit more accurate than the use of “dragged” to oysters last week) to the downtown McKinney 4th of July parade on Monday morning.  Parking was a challenge with the multi-storey garage full, with no sign out front, resulting in a complete cluster as everyone tried to turn around at the top of the structure.  We did find a spot on a side street without too much hassle.

The parade began with the usual fire truck and police motorcycles, followed by Maylee and the Mayor, singing songs from the back of a pickup truck.  Diana groaned at Maylee, as usual.  Then there were the usual boy scout troops, jeep clubs and the like.  I liked the pinewood derby car float – bringing back memories of many hours constructing those kits with the boys.

Our favourite group was the RC summer camp – kids and adults racing their remote controlled cars around – some very creative vehicles.  Here are some other pictures – old cars and floats.  The horn sound from those old cars always makes me smile – “Eeeaww, eeeaww.”

There wasn’t much music associated with the parade – big missed opportunity – until the Scottish pipe and drum group from Fort Worth, towards the end.  I laughed at this.  Independence from Britain is celebrated with a group of Scottish bagpipers?

We continued the patriotic theme with a trip to the city fireworks show in the evening.  This is the first time that we’ve driven all the way into the madness of thousands of people listening to music, and then watching the fireworks.  I enjoyed this set to Neil Diamond’s “Coming to America.”

Unfortunately, the show was cut short due to high winds – they weren’t very high, just a bit gusty, and obviously not great for a fireworks show.

Oh, almost forgot to mention – Maylee (Mayor’s wife) sang the National Anthem to start the firework show.  Diana choked out: “She did a good job.”

Will sent this picture on Sunday.  Interesting look on the “future Mrs. Robertson’s” face.

I threatened to cancel my New York Times crossword subscription with this offering on Tuesday – Taylor Swift song titles indeed.

I came across this interesting sight as I was moving through the kitchen.  Girls and power tools – be afraid!

We watched “Can You Keep a Secret” on Tuesday evening.  This is a quirky romantic comedy that we both enjoyed quite a bit.  Alexandra Daddario does a great job as an entry level worker in an advertising agency.

Diana picked our Wednesday evening movie, “House of Gucci.”  She got quite excited when the Lady Gaga character drove up at the start of the film – she was driving Diana’s first car – a bright red 1977 Fiat 124 Spyder.  This movie was quite good – with great performances from Lady Gaga, Adam Driver, and Al Pacino.  I thought Jared Leto was a bit too over the top – reminded me of some kind of crazy Joker from Batman act.  I had no idea how nuts the Gucci family were in the 80s and 90s.  Would definitely recommend checking this out now that it’s streaming.

I have been trying to get back in touch with the three characters that I hung out with during my years at Heriot Watt University in Edinburgh, Scotland (1981-1985), without much success.  I took a stab at googling “Bobby Miller, bass player, Edinburgh” on Wednesday night.  Success!  I found a website for a Scottish band named North Sea Gas – and there was Bobby – looking just like I remember him.  I probably shouldn’t admit that it took me a couple of days of noodling to even come up with Bobby’s last name – running the alphabet over and over again.

I posted a comment on the website and contacted the UK booking agent for the band, explaining what I was up to.  And “Hey Presto”, I had an email address a few minutes later – the joys of technology.  I also learned from the website that Bobby had married Kristy somewhere around the year 2000.

Here’s what the band sounds like:

I hope I get a reply from the email address I was given.

A reply came in on Saturday afternoon – really brought a smile to my face.  Here’s an excerpt:

 “You might remember me playing with Fat Sam’s Band while we were at University giving me gigs in France as well as over Britain. I moved from them to start playing Double Bass and Bass Guitar with North Sea Gas around 1988, continuing for nearly 15 years, with mainly Scottish gigs for me but did German Tours and got over to New York State/New York, which was a highlight gig. I did I think 6 albums with “the Gas” all of which I think got Silver Discs, with one Gold Disc. Amongst other musical talents, Kirsty graduated from the Academy in Glasgow in violin performance and she ended up joining North Sea Gas for around three years before we both left in 2002. At this point family commitments and the prospect of lengthy tour schedules made this unsustainable, far less try to keep the day job.

Other musical highlights have included doing Double Bass for a couple of Runrig singles, live BBC Hogmanay shows, many festival gigs and folk clubs (both North Sea Gas and New Celeste) and a cameo appearance on Outlander (as a Double Bass player in a band). Still doing many gigs in loads of settings both on Double Bass and Bass Guitar.

Also had a brief stint playing football semi professionally but couldn’t commit enough time along with the music, and a part-time university stint getting an MSc to cheer up my first degree, so returned to play for Ferranti’s works team.”

Diana left for Montego Bay, Jamaica on Friday morning.  She was snapping pictures of the unapproved stowaway, BP, on the beach by 4pm.  Fortunately they don’t have far to walk to the beach – as seen in this picture from the room.

When I spoke to her around 11pm, Diana had just finished listening to some “silly reggae” music on the beach.

Meanwhile, I made the very short drive to the Guitar Sanctuary to watch a show by Albert Lee and band.  Haven’t heard of him?  Well, let me share some background.  Albert was born in 1943 in Shropshire, England before moving to and growing up in London.  He was first introduced to music through the piano at age 9, before listening to the likes of Lonnie Donegan, Buddy Holly, and Gene Vincent who inspired him to take up the guitar.  His first big hit was “Country Boy” with Heads, Hands and Feet.  This song was a big hit for Vince Gill.  Lee did a great, high-speed rendition of this at the Sanctuary.

Albert was a member of the famed “Wrecking Crew” in Los Angeles in the 70s, playing on countless albums as the premier set of session musicians.  He was a member of Eric Clapton’s band from 1980 to 1985, playing on “Just One Night”, “Another Ticket”, and “Money and Cigarettes.”  I was fortunate to see this band at the Edinburgh Playhouse.  Lee was the one who took my albums back for Clapton to sign when Andy Bull and I spotted the band going in for soundcheck on the way home from University in the afternoon.  Here’s a song from “Just One Night” featuring Lee’s vocals and picking:

Lee also spent several years playing with the Everly Brothers – I was just writing about them last week.  Here’s a story he told about that time – I do enjoy a good story as part of a musician’s set.

He played a great variety of music with his own songs and covers by Delbert McClinton, Ray Charles, and Rodney Crowell.  I particularly enjoyed this Crowell cover:

That song is “Song for the Life”.  What great lyrics:

Somehow I’ve learned how to listen
For a sound like the sun going down
In the magic that morning is bringing
There’s a song for the life I have found
It keeps my feet on the ground

What a treat to have a classic musician performing in walking distance of home.

Saturday was a quiet day for me – household chores, supervising the neighbour boys spreading mulch, catching up on emails, reading, and a trip to Apex for a workout since it’s 105 degrees outside.  I did receive notification in the mail that my US citizenship has been approved, with an oath ceremony on July 26th.  I’ll need to call and get that pushed out a bit.  It seems that our research on 5 years of flights must have been good enough for government work.

In Jamaica, the girls enjoyed coconut drinks, jerk chicken from the grill, and then lobster and champagne for dinner.

Diana reports that she’s having a checkout dive in the swimming pool on Sunday afternoon, in preparation for going scuba diving on Monday morning.  Monday afternoon brings a first for her – apparently they’re going parasailing.

Sunday morning brought the Wimbledon Men’s Final – a pretty good start that then became pretty predictable.  I smiled at this food truck parked by the Apex when I went in for a swim – I could get some jerk chicken from the barbecue like Diana.

My first book this week was “Who By Fire – Leonard Cohen in the Sinai” by Matti Friedman.  Here’s the online summary:

“The little-known story of Leonard Cohen’s concert tour to the front lines of the Yom Kippur War

In October 1973, the poet and singer Leonard Cohen – 39 years old, famous, unhappy, and at a creative dead end – traveled from his home on the Greek island of Hydra to the chaos and bloodshed of the Sinai desert when Egypt attacked Israel on the Jewish high holiday of Yom Kippur. Moving around the front with a guitar and a group of local musicians, Cohen met hundreds of young soldiers, men and women at the worst moment of their lives. Those who survived never forgot the experience. And the war transformed Cohen. He had announced that he was abandoning his music career, but he instead returned to Hydra and to his family, had a second child, and released one of the best albums of his career. In Who by Fire, journalist Matti Friedman gives us a riveting account of those weeks in the Sinai, drawing on Cohen’s previously unpublished writing and original reporting to create a kaleidoscopic depiction of a harrowing, formative moment for both a young country at war and a singer at a crossroads.”

I’m not sure what I think about this book.  Sometimes fascinating with stories of a war I knew nothing about, and with tales of Cohen performing for small groups of soldiers in front line locations, at other times very academic and reading like a research paper.  The author seemed determined to somehow include all the little snippets of information that he had collected in his investigation into these events.

I did enjoy the descriptions of how this song came to Cohen during this time:

The title of the book comes from the song of the same name, from the album released shortly after Cohen returned from Israel, and is based on an old Hebrew prayer:

And who by fire, who by water
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial
Who in your merry merry month of May
Who by very slow decay
And who shall I say is calling?

Here’s a paragraph describing the scene of one of the impromptu concerts:

“When the soldiers join Cohen for the chorus of “So Long, Marianne,” their voices are the only sound in the desert.  He introduces the next number.  “This song is one that should be heard at home, in a warm room with a drink and a woman you love,” he says.  “I hope you find yourselves in that situation soon.”  He plays “Suzanne.”  The men are quiet.  They hear about a place that doesn’t have blackened tanks and figures lying still in charred coveralls.  It’s a city by a river, a perfect body, tea and oranges all the ways from China.  “They’re listening to his music,” writes the reporter, “but who knows where their thoughts are wandering.”

A description of the young Israeli soldiers that I enjoyed:

“In the photographs they are grinning, of course.  They’re young and unfazed, chest hair surging from unzipped flight suites, mustaches and sideburns on the older reservists, nicknames like Rhino and Wild Bull, looking less like clean-cut American air-force types than like the military wing of Credence Clearwater Revival.”

An interesting anecdote on how the soldiers reacted to a big music star in their midst:

“The kid said, “Okay, okay, bit-time poet, big-time artist, you come in here, you’ve got the band with you, you’ve got the pretty girls with you, you’re singing all these pretty words and everything, well what I want to know, buddy, is what do you think about me?”  Cohen walked off the stage and into the rows of seats, the guitarist remembered, “and before you knew it he had the guy in his arms, hugging him.”

There is only one known interview where Cohen directly addresses his time in Sinai – by the British music writer Robin Pike, conducted in September 1974:

“PIKE: You mentioned that you went back to Israel at the time of the last war and your sang.  Can you say a bit more about that?  How did you actually take part:

COHEN:  I just attached myself to an air force entertainment group.  We would just drop into little places, like a rocket site, and they would shine their flashlights at us and we would sing a few songs.  Or they would give us a Jeep and we would go down the road toward the front and wherever we saw a few soldiers waiting on a helicopter or something like that we would sing a few songs.”

After that interview there is really no mention of this time anywhere:

“Anyone hoping for a hint had to be paying enough attention to his work to notice the song “Night Comes On,” which appeared a decade later on the album “Various Positions.”  By that time Cohen seemed like yesterday’s man, and his American label famously didn’t even bother releasing the album, though it included not only the enduring “Dance Me to the End of Love” and “If it Be Your Will”, which might be his best song, but also “Hallelujah,” now one of the most popular songs on earth.”

What a poor decision by the American record label!

As seems to happen frequently, the crossword comes along with a clue directly relevant to something new I’ve learned.  The Wednesday puzzle had this clue for Sinai:

My next book, which I loved, was “Nowhere for very long – The unexpected road to an Unconventional Life” by Brianna Madia.  This is a bit similar to “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed, but quite a lot lighter – it has heavy moments but not at the depth of “Wild.”  Madia’s writing style and honesty kept me very engaged, with the book finishing way too quickly.  I would have happily read another 200 pages or more.  Here’s the online summary:

“In this beautifully written, vividly detailed memoir, a young woman chronicles her adventures traveling across the deserts of the American West in an orange van named Bertha and reflects on an unconventional approach to life

A woman defined by motion, Brianna Madia bought a beat-up bright orange van, filled it with her two dogs Bucket and Dagwood, and headed into the canyons of Utah with her husband. Nowhere for Very Long is her deeply felt, immaculately told story of exploration—of the world outside and the spirit within.

However, pursuing a life of intention isn’t always what it seems. In fact, at times it was downright boring, exhausting, and even desperate—when Bertha overheated and she was forced to pull over on a lonely stretch of South Dakota highway; when the weather was bitterly cold and her water jugs froze beneath her as she slept in the parking lot of her office; when she worried about money, her marriage, and the looming question mark of her future. But Brianna was committed to living a life true to herself, come what may, and that made all the difference.

Nowhere for Very Long is the true story of a woman learning and unlearning, from backroads to breakdowns, from married to solo, and finally, from lost to found to lost again…this time, on purpose.”

From page 2 of the book:

“Forty-eight miles later and forty-eight miles from pavement, the van rolled silently to a stop in a network of desolate dirt roads.  There had been no loud clanking noise, no odor of leaking fumes, no smoke from the hood.  A tie rod end hadn’t snapped, jerking the wheel ninety degrees and sending me skidding violently into a sand-bank.  Rusted leaf springs hadn’t cracked in half, rendering the van slightly crooked and limp as though the passenger side had had a stroke. (All things that had already happened up to that point, by the way.)  I cranked the starter a few times, pumping the gas pedal with each attempt, but there was no sound besides the cicadas buzzing in the heat.

I jumped out of the front seat – still a far fall even at my five-foot-ten stature – and squatted down to look at her undercarriage.  Above my head was the orange and black nameplate I’d had custom-made for her front grille.  Bertha.  Named after my favorite Grateful Dead song.”

Maybe my favourite Grateful Dead song also.

I love this quote from the start of Part II of the book:

“And then there is the most dangerous risk of all – the risk of spending your life not doing what you want on the bet you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.     – Randy Komisar”

Why Madia loves the desert:

“With mountains, the beauty is right in front of you.  Their grandeur can be seen from miles away.  The shorelines and the coastal cliffs can be felt before you even arrive; telltale signs of cooler winds and sticky salt air, the call of gulls.  But the desert is a bit trickier.

Cow-pie and cactus-covered stretches of sand, dotted with the occasional juniper.  Jackrabbits and beady-eyed lizards and that Western-movie whistle of wind and buzz of unforgiving heat.  Some may find a place like that unnerving, even boring.  They might drive a few miles down the road, maybe peer off a ledge into more vastness, and then turn to leave.  They’ve seen all there is to see, they assume.

But then there are those who go farther, who tumble down miles and miles of dirt roads until those roads devolve into rocky two-track trails that wind and sink down between the buttresses.  And when those tracks end, they forge their own on foot, winding through dried-up washes and aimless cattle trails carved through fields of half-bloomed rabbitbrush and Mormon tea.  The sky narrows; the sandstone rises.  In a world of instant gratification, the desert still calls to the determined.”

I could feel myself getting quite claustrophobic as I read a section about high-stemming through a canyon that was less than a foot wide:

“Suddenly my palms, soaked with sweat, slipped from the sandstone behind me and sent the back of my skull crashing into the wall.  My knees began to slide slowly down the opposite wall, leaving two perfect trails of dark blood like paint.  Below me was Bucket and below Bucket was a V-shaped crack that would shatter any limb that fell into it.  I screamed Neil’s name.  I screamed every swear work I could think of.  The nearest cell phone service was over three hours away from the crack I was now wedged inside of in a half-upside-down fetal position.

By the time Neil had gotten Dagwood through and scrambled back to me, my screaming had turned to hyperventilating, I could feel the blood dripping down my back, dripping down my calves, dropping onto Bucket’s back.

“Help me!” I cried as Neil’s face appeared above mine.  He slid down beneath me ever-so-slightly, propping Bucket up on one of his legs, effectively removing her sixty pounds of weight from my harness.  With a swift motion, he clipped her carabiner to himself and took her from me.  I righted myself and dragged my bloodied body behind him as he grunted his was through the walls.”

My last book was “A Swim in the Pond in the Rain” by George Saunders.  In this book Saunders recreates a class on the Russian short story that he has been teaching to MFA students at Syracuse University for the last twenty years.  This book was highly recommended in a review by a writer that I like but can’t remember just now.  Saunders is a risk for me – I’ve abandoned a couple of his books in the last few years – particularly “Lincoln in the Bardo”.  All the critics raved, and it just seemed like nonsensical gibberish to me.

I am interested in learning a bit about the 19th century Russian masters and will give this book a solid try.  I enjoyed the reading and discussion on Chekhov’s “In the Cart.”  Maybe I’ll read one or two short stories and discussion a week.  I do feel like a slight better educated reader already – Saunders breaking down what’s happening on each page to keep the reader’s attention and to develop the plot and characters.

I listened to the old Pink Floyd album “Animals” last Monday while reading, and loved some of the songs that Spotify automatically started playing when it ended:

Coexist with kindness and compassion!