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So much for the sharper stuff, now on to the duller.




Most looked-up and most misspelled Words

PARADIGM was the word most frequently looked up in 1998 in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary.

I’ll bet it’s fallen down the list since then cause I don’t hear it around the office much anymore, but about 10 years ago every so-called expert in everything from marketing to metaphysics was talking about paradigm shifts.


Some other words frequently looked up, besides obscene words, were UBIQUITOUS, ESOTERIC, OXYMORON, SERENDIPITY, HUBRIS, OBSEQUIOUS, and ECLECTIC.

Not a single one of the above would get me searching…but just offhand I can think of two that generally do: entrepreneur and commitment (or any word where I know that there’s a double letter set but not sure which it is or whether there’s more than one)

In 2001, the ten most frequently looked up words in the Cambridge Dictionaries Online were SERENDIPITY, IDIOM, PARADIGM, UBIQUITOUS, DICTIONARY, PRAGMATIC, EFFECT, GRY, JINGOISM, and FOIBLE. The most frequently looked up article in the World Book Encyclopedia is said to be SNAKE.

Snake is funny. Must be folks just before going on a camping trip or just after returning from one.

The words most likely to be misspelled (ratio of incorrect to correct spelling) according to a study of Usenet traffic some years ago were DUMBELL, OCCURRENCE, MEMENTO, FRUSTUM, COLLECTIBLE, AMATEUR, DAIQUIRI, PASTIME, ACCIDENTALLY, PLAYWRIGHT, EMBARRASS, ACQUIT, HARASS, and PRONUNCIATION.


Frustum?

In geometry, a frustum[1] (plural: frusta or frustums) is the portion of a solid (normally a cone or pyramid) that lies between two parallel planes cutting it.




The same study showed the words most frequently misspelled (by gross count) to be: RECEIVE, A LOT, AMATEUR, SEPARATE, REALIZE, THEIR, DEFINITE, INDEPENDENT, WEIRD, EMBARRASS, ARGUMENT, NO ONE, ACQUIRE, ACCIDENTALLY, OCCURRENCE, COLLECTIBLE, RIDICULOUS, MANEUVER, LIAISON, GAUGE, ATHEIST, GRAMMAR, SUPERSEDE, KERNEL, and CONSENSUS.

Interesting that it’s usually a question of:
Is it one word or two?
Is it e before i or vice versa?
Which letter is doubled?
Is it s, or c, or z?
Does it have a u ?
Does it have a silent or redundant (or is that redundent) letter?


Mondegreens

Mondegreens are opposite of malapropisms; they’re something being misheard rather than missaid. Generally applied to song lyric confusion as per:

"Excuse me while I kiss this guy."

"Excuse me while I kiss the sky."

Purple Haze, Jimi Hendrix

"There's a bathroom on the right."

"There's a bad moon on the rise."

Bad Moon Rising, Creedence Clearwater

"The girl with colitis goes by."

"The girl with kaleidoscope eyes."

Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, The Beatles

"Bring me an iron lung."

"Bring me a higher love."

Higher Love, Steve Winwood

"Mama don't take my clothes 'n' throw 'em away."

"Mama don't take my Kodachrome away."

Kodachrome, Paul Simon

"You make the best homemade stew around."

"You make the best of what's still around."

When The World Is Running Down, The Police


The word boycott comes from Charles C. Boycott. He was hired by an Irish earl to collect high rents from tenant farmers who completely ignored him.

The quark, a building block of the proton, got its name from James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, from the line "Three quarks for Muster Mark! Sure he hasn't got much of a bark".


Antagonyms

Words that can have opposite (or nearly opposite) meaning.

Apparent: Not clear or certain (For now, he is the apparent winner of the contest.) vs. Obvious (The solution to the problem was apparent to all.)

Assume: To actually have (To assume office) vs. To hope to have ("He assumed he would be elected.")

Bad: Bad vs. Good.

Bound: Moving ("I was bound for Chicago") vs. Unable to move ("I was bound to a post", or less literally, "I was bound to my desk")

Buckle: to hold together (e.g. buckle your belt) vs. to fall apart (e.g., buckle under pressure)

Cite: For doing good (such as military gallantry) vs. for doing bad (such as from a traffic cop)

Cleave: To adhere tightly vs. To cut apart

Clip: to attach vs. to cut off

Dust: To remove dust vs. To apply dust (as in fingerprinting)

Effectively: in effect (doing the equivalent of the action but not the real thing) vs. with effect (doing the action and doing it well) [Contrast "he is effectively lying" (colloquial?) with "he is lying effectively"]

Enjoin: To order someone to do something vs. To stop someone from doing something [such as in law by an injunction]

Fast: Moving rapidly vs. Unable to move ("I was held fast to my bed.")

Fix: to restore to function (fixing the refrigerator) vs. to make non-functional (fixing the dog)

Goods: [Slang] good things vs. bad things ("I have the goods from the warehouse robbery, but I'm worried the cops have the goods on me.")

Hysterical: Being overwhelmed with fear [in some cases] vs. Being funny

Incorporate: When a village is incorporated, it is formed, but when it is incorporated into a city, the village is subsumed.

Lease, Let, Rent: [in essence] To loan out for money vs. To "borrow" for money

Left: To remain vs. to have gone (Of all who came, only Fred's left. Does it mean he's the only one who still remains or that he's the first to depart? )

Mad: carried away by enthusiasm or desire vs. carried away by hatred or anger

Oversight: Watchful and responsible care vs. An omission or error due to carelessness

Practiced: Experienced, expert (I am practiced in my work) vs. Inexperienced effort (The child practiced coloring.)

Presently: Now vs. after some time

Quite: Completely vs. Not completely (e.g., quite empty [totally empty]; quite full [not completely full, just nearly so)

Ravel: to disentangle or unravel vs. to tangle or entangle

Refrain: In song, meaning to repeat a certain part vs. To stop (Please refrain from using bad language)

Reservation: what you make when you know where you want to go vs. what you have when you're not sure if you want to go

Root: To establish (The seed took root.) vs. To remove entirely (usually used with "out", e.g., to root out dissenters)

Sanction: Support for an action (They sanctioned our efforts.) vs. A penalty for an action (The Congressman was sanctioned for inappropriate behavior.)

Shop: To search with the intent to buy ("I shopped for a book at several stores.") vs. To search with the intent to sell ("I shopped my manuscript to several publishers.")

Skin: to cover with a skin vs. to remove outer covering or skin

Strike out: An ending, as in "The batter struck out." vs. A beginning, as in "I thought it was time to strike out on my own."

Transparent: Easily seen ("His motives were transparent.") vs. invisible

Trim: To add things to (trim a Christmas tree) vs. or take pieces off (trim hair)


Ten most misunderstood words in America…

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion…”

Apparently the bewigged boys in Philly had more pressing business to attend to-- so rather spend time over-thinking this thorny issue, so they kept it short and sweet and doomed us forever after to suss out their intent.

I’ve heard the fundamentalists parse the thing to death and claim that the word “establishment” is a clear indication that the founders were deliberately narrow in their proscription because they assumed the preeminence of religion in the fabric of society and law. They argue that “establishment” refers solely to the issue of a declaration promoting one branch of Christianity over another. In short, they are saying that the founders had absolutely no intention of separating church and state, but rather were simply stating their intention to not interfere with religious institutions and leave them free to do as they wished without government involvement. Funny though, when you read the founders individual writings on the matter
almost to a man (Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Madison, Hamilton, Washington, Morris (both of em) Livingston…and others) they couldn’t be more specific and clear about their intent to do nothing of the sort. These guys were inheritors of a legacy of oppressive religious power and corruption and ill-fated encroachments on the body politic and of all the issues debated over the many years leading up to and following the constitutional convention, this is the one that probably enjoyed the most unanimity of opinion and agreement. Can you imagine any of those guys listening to some of the debate today and wondering how anyone could get them so wrong? Poor saps prided themselves on their powers of eloquent and precise argument and articulation and here we are almost a quarter of a millennium later trampling on the pristine perfection of their meticulous masterpiece.

These guys had fun with words too…

The Blues in the White House

Caught some of the Blues show at the White House on TV last night. On hand among others: BB King, Buddy Guy, Trombone Shorty, Shemekia Copeland, Keb Mo, Jeff Beck, Derek Trucks, Susan Tedeschi Warren Haynes, Booker T. Jones, and a somewhat uncomfortable and seemingly out of place Mick Jagger. There were some compelling performances (under such circumstances one imagines there's a great deal of P.C. TLC going on not to mention the sense of propriety and formality that permeates the atmosphere and mindset of the performers) but it would be foolish to expect much more than a kind of all-star love fest featuring more in the way of cheerful celebration than heartfelt passion. But what kept me tuned in was the sheer enormity and gravity of the fact that I was watching a U.S. President of African American descent with his African american wife grooving to the music born of the African American experience in America played by a group of predominantly african american musicians and broadcast to millions of viewers around the nation (world?) who I can only hope had a similar reaction to mine. There was Barack and Michelle nodding, grinning, closing their eyes and letting their shoulders swing and sway to the depth and beauty of all that blue suffering and bliss. It occurred to me that some of their most rabid foes and critics were cringing at the sight. To many people in this country, I can imagine that it was a sight that reflected their own worst fears carried over from hundreds of years of inherited ignorance and prejudice.

I have always thought that much of the intensity, anger and resentment fueling the Tea Party movement as well as resistance to Obama's initiatives in HealthCare and other domestic agenda issues are in large part fueled by nothing more complicated than racism. The anger toward him is so great and the tone is so shrill and it's all coming from those who I'm willing to bet have little or no understanding of the issues themselves. ObamaCare ( A term they created to feed the frenzy) is a perfect example. It's been misrepresented and misunderstood to the point of absurdity...and yet rational voices and clear heads have no chance to quiet the din.

I've had arguments with friends about this. And I think what's hard for some enlightened and decent people to accept is that their enlightened attitudes and sense of human decency, justice and fairness is not shared by as many as they think. Obama won the election--so how can he suddenly be so bereft of support? Well, it doesn't always take a big crowd to start trouble. And add to the fuel the fact that most people can't connect our current economic woes with their root causes which occurred before anyone even knew who Obama was. " We got problems today, so whoever's in charge today is responsible".

It's also easy to forget that though we've come a long way (as the saying goes...) we also had a long way to come. And where we've arrived ain't exactly the promised land. Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in baseball less than a generation ago. Augusta National golf club took in a token black member only about a decade ago. And who are we fooling if we think either of those breakthroughs mean all that much when we're still debating the pros and cons of racial profiling by law enforcement.
Progress is slower than it seems when you take the advancements off the history book timelines and drop them into the day to day world we all live in where old habits die hard and old attitudes die even harder. And my jewish brothers and sisters should be the first to understand since it wasn't so long ago that anti-semitism was so prevalent and part of mainstream thinking that some of the most prominent and public figures in society didn't hesitate to express it in no uncertain terms.



Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826) Third President of the United States



“I advance it therefore as a suspicion only, that the blacks, whether originally a distinct race, or made distinct by time and circumstances, are inferior to the whites in the endowments both of body and mind.”



Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 1882) Transcendentalist essayist, poet, and lecturer



“I think it cannot be maintained by any candid person that the African race have ever occupied or do promise ever to occupy any very high place in the human family. Their present condition is the strongest proof that they cannot. The Irish cannot; the American Indian cannot; the Chinese cannot. Before the energy of the Caucasian race all the other races have quailed and done obeisance.”



Ulysses S. Grant (1822–1885) 18th President of the United States



“I have long since believed that in spite of all the vigilance that can be infused into post commanders, the special regulations of the Treasury Department have been violated, and that mostly by Jews and other unprincipled traders. So well satisfied have I been of this that I instructed the commanding officers at Columbus to refuse all permits to Jews to come South, and I have frequently had them expelled from the department, but they come in with their carpet-sacks in spite of all that can be done to prevent it.



Henry Adams (1838–1918)Historian, novelist, grandson of John Quincy Adams



“I detest [the Jews] and everything connected with them, and I live only and solely with the hope of seeing their demise, with all their accursed Judaism. I want to see all the lenders at interest taken out and executed.”





Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919)26th President of the United States



“It is of incalculable importance that America, Australia, and Siberia should pass out of the hands of their red, black, and yellow aboriginal owners, and become the heritage of the dominant world races.”



Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924)28th president of the United States



“Segregation is not humiliating but a benefit, and ought to be so regarded by you gentlemen. If your organization goes out and tells the colored people of the country that it is a humiliation, they will so regard it, but if you do not tell them so, and regard it rather as a benefit, they will regard it the same. The only harm that will come will be if you cause them to think it is a humiliation.”


Robert C. Byrd (1917–2010) U.S. Senator (D–W.Va.)



"I am loyal to my country and I know but reverence to her flag. BUT I shall never submit to fight beneath that banner with a Negro by my side … Rather I should die a thousand times, and see Old Glory trampled in the dirt never to rise again, than to see this beloved land of ours become degraded by race mongrels, a throwback to the blackest specimen from the wilds.”


AND LET’S PUT A CHERRY ON TOP WITH…

“I mean, there needs to be a wholesale effort against racial profiling, which is illiterate children.”

George W. Bush

Mea Culpa



I neglected to mention Rod Hicks in the Butterfield Band lineup on Keep on Moving. Beckmeier is listed too...and hence my error.

Hicks also played Cello and sang on the album.

And for years I've been practicing his bass line on Walking by Myself.

Sorry Jeremy...

In my last post I prematurely promised to return this week with more post-mugging musings as well as some discussion about Lawrence Block and Paul Butterfield. But I now regret saying that since I’m not sure I even know why I promised that trio* of topics in the first place. The mugging stuff is obvious, but Block and Butterfield was an impulse that simply arose from the fact that I was reading Block and listening to Butterfield recently and so assumed I would be inclined to write about them. And now I’m not. So I’ll start with Post Muggery.

While in P.R. we got a call from our bank. Seems my assailant tried to pass a check from my account (I had one blank check in my wallet) for $6900.00 with a notation “ For Funeral”. Bank was wise enough to stop payment—but the fiction writer in me wants to know more. Did he mug me to raise dough for a funeral? Whose? An intimation of his own mortality? Why put the notation there? Is it a cover for him or someone else? In the mortuary business? You almost have all you need for a pretty good story here, with metaphysical implications no less, but I doubt I’ll be writing it.

Meantime, been calling the detective in charge of the “investigation” just about every day for a week trying to get him to follow up on his promise of returning the contents of my bag so I can use my favorite reading glasses , open my bike lock, listen to my iPod, continue reading V.S. Pritchett and practice my Tom Jobim songs. I finally took matters into my own hands and on the way to the train this morning dropped into the police station to see if I could catch him in. He was, and without apologizing for not returning my calls, allowed me to take most of what was left of my stuff. The iPod doesn’t work, and is badly dented. The reading glasses are ok (but the hard case is ruined), and the sunglasses are missing the lenses. What's with that? My wallet was in there, but no contents of value except my Stop and Shop discount card, and my dental plan card. The guy took my Health insurance I.D. Guess in his line of work you never know when you might end up in the emergency room. But the V.S. Pritchett is unscathed and bookmarked right where I left it. My mugger obviously prefers Thackeray.

The detective watched me as I went through the pile…and it suddenly occurred to me that I had one more thing in there that had slipped my mind. It was a mini plastic baggie with the equivalent of about 2 joints worth of pot and some rolling papers. I didn’t see them, and I didn’t bother to ask: “ What happened to my weed?” If the mugger was thorough, I can’t imagine he’d leave that behind, but he didn’t take the iPod…so maybe he wasn’t so thorough and there’s a Mamaroneck cop somewhere digging into a pint of chocolate Haagen Dazs as I speak.

Okay…a little Lawrence Block. He’s a solid, dependable, sharp and witty storyteller. And creating a hero (in the Bernie Rhodenbarr series) who is a used books seller by day and compulsive cat burglar by night provides almost limitless possibilities for provocative offbeat situations and action. And he’s got a fine flair for plotting, which is a rare quality these days. He doesn’t have Elmore Leonard’s genius for compressed dialogue, but he’s funny and easy-going and certainly prolific. I like writers who just let the narrative flow without too much fanfare, self-consciousness or pretensions to the "literary". I think its funny that there is such a category as The "Literary" novel--as if it's important to distinguish it from other genres. Isn't " Literary" just another genre? It's like "Serious" music. You mean Stevie Wonder and Prince aren't serious about what they do? Ah...whatever. Back to Block... as I read him, I imagine he’d be fun to have some beers with while shooting the breeze about everything and nothing in particular just for the fun of the banter. Some random quotes:

“People don't get to change things. Things change people once in a while, but people don't change things.”

“Man, I so sick of dinosaurs. They wasn't extinct, I'd go out an' kill 'em myself.”

“Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for. ”

“Take advantage of the ambiguity in the world. Look at something and think what else it might be.”

And as for Butterfield…well, I could go on at length, but won’t except that listening to his best stuff with his best bands is Blues heaven. My friend Jeremy turned me on to “Keep on Moving” back in the early 70’s and it blew me away. Still does. I know some people like the earlier stuff with Bloomfield and Elvin Bishop—but the band with Wilson, Feiten, Dinwiddie, Beckmeier, Sanborn and the rest of the horn section playing those killer charts…whew!


Speaking of hot bands…my son Will sent me this the other day. Told me he watched it about 10 times. Prince just knocks me out. All he can do is write, play, sing and dance. And how bout Sheila E !!! And there she was playing alongside Pharrell Williams in the band on the Oscars the other night. Probably the best thing about the show and all the viewer gets is about four bars before they go to commercial. Just like when I went to a Letterman taping years ago, and the best thing was the band playing during the breaks that the home viewer never hears. Among this clip’s other virtues, it reminds me of that old Butterfield Band—the thrill of watching and listening to skilled and soulful masters (hard) at work.





Life is Long

In youth
Dreams were so vivid
They overwhelmed
And crowded out the day to day
In a heavy mist
I witnessed the daily evaporation of
My father’s dreams
My mother’s dreams
As they did their mother’s and father’s dreams.
But in youth there were no dreams but my own.
My gaze turned ever upward to follow
not an evaporation
but a mysterious rising
of an all consuming Cumulus.
Years passed
And the day to day
(day by day)
Became the vivid
Yet on some days still
I look up and I see that same cloud
And tell myself that
now
it follows me.

* Just realized it was a quartet that included Louis L'amour. I read some short stories down in P.R. and was disappointed. Possibly stimulating for a 9 year old boy, but otherwise pretty lame. Zane Grey and he are often mentioned together as the great "Western" masters, but Grey deserves better than that.

Back from Puerto Rico ("...you lovely island...island of tropical breezes...")




Wanna see pictures?
Ok. Didn’t think so.

And I don’t blame you (or at least those of you who answered in the negative) because that’s what I would say (or would want to say) if our roles were reversed.

It’s almost a comedy cliché:

“ Wanna see pictures we took of the Grand Canyon on our trip?”

Uh, well, yeah sure, cause the four million professional shots I’ve seen of it just don’t seem to capture the splendid beauty of it quite as magnificently as I’m sure yours do.

Okay, but of course it’s not about the places in the pictures, it’s about the people. It’s about the people you know and love captured on film in places of interest --and after all, why wouldn’t I want to see lots and lots (that’s another part of the problem—why is it always so many?) of pictures of friends and/or family enjoying themselves on unforgettable trips to exotic places where they had absolutely wonderful experiences? But fact is, generally I don't. Maybe it’s because they're just pictures, and hardly come close to capturing what the experience was truly about. Now that I've said that, I think that that's it. They're just pictures. You can't feel the warmth of the sun, the sensual caress of the water, the taste of the local cuisine, the smells and textures of plants and fauna. On the other hand, maybe I don't like looking at other people's travel pictures because it just reminds me that they had all that fun without me. Does that make me a curmudgeon? Probably. But I’ve rarely met a curmudgeon I didn’t like…so I’ll live with it.

All that said, however, I’m gonna post some pix anyway. And I feel justified in doing so because I regard this site more as a personal journal than a public forum --and when I check my readership stats, it’s clear that I’ve every reason to do so. But my only concession to the points made above is that the following includes many professional shots that far better capture some of the sights we visited and for my journal keeping purposes will better serve my desire to record in images some of what we experienced during our week in America’s uncommonly appealing commonwealth.



Shacks Beach. A row of assorted houses with our little studio apt.nestled someplace in the middle here. It's a small secluded stretch off a dirt road on the NorthWest coast of the island where the surf is always up and the wind is always blowing. Heaven for surfers, windsurfers, Kite surfers and Stand up Paddling wannabes like me.





Snorkin...our primary activity. Three or four times a day on various beaches up and down and across the coast. By the end of the week we got tired of driving and stayed on our beach where the coral reefs and fish variety provided pretty good viewing any time of day. Here's some of what was to be seen. (Turtles were in Rincon and just 15 feet from shore) BTW: We took these shots.











Our little studio lay-out (except this is a mirror image of ours) where we brought our own groceries, cooked one dinner, made PB & J's to take to beach and generally hung out whenever we needed a break from the mid-day sun.





Ola Lola's
Tucked away in the middle of nowhere on dirt road. Restaurant/ bar and art gallery, general hangout and take one, leave one library/ open 3 days a week and everyone is like family . Great joint. Great vibe.



Okay, so you get yourself a stand Up Paddle board and head out to the break and try not to think about the fact that you're too old, too fat, too out of shape and too nervous about all that sharp coral sitting just two feet below waiting to impale you the moment you make one wrong move...while you also keep telling yourself that you're having fun.




Finally, you get up the courage to paddle hard till you catch a wave-- and the thrill lasts about half a second before you're up, up and away and hoping for a soft landing and a forgiving whitewater.

AND HERE'S THE ACTUAL DRIFTER...ACTUALLY ADRIFT.





I'm running out of time and want to post something today, so I'll just throw in some more random shots here. Now that I have this vacation story/picture sharing thing out of my system, I hope to return next week to talk on more stimulating and hopefully universally compelling topics...including some more post mugging musings and a few words about Louis L'amour, Lawrence Block and The Paul Butterfield band.

A beach visitor


Ellen in her element


Just another fan


Ellen. In her other element.

Gonna take a blogging sabbatical ...

...for a while as me and the Mrs. (as they would say in a V.S. Pritchett story) toodle off to Puerto Rico where we hope it won’t be raining as much as the forecast predicts. In the meantime I leave you with a list of some of my favorite digital haunts in the hope that one or two might strike your fancy. Then you too can join the growing ranks of virtual slackers and web loiterers who can be found at such places as….

www.aldaily.com
My default homepage for many years. Commentary, articles, essays, reviews and lots more from all over the world…taking you directly to the source. Column on the left is your link to …you name it. Pretty much can get anywhere from here.



http://thebrowser.com/
lots of stuff to read







http://www.edge.org/
Thinkers thinking about all kinds of stuff including thinking --and lots of other such nonsense including The World Question Center. (I use nonsense in the best sense of the word)




http://www.manybooks.net Free downloadable books. Offshoot of Gutenberg Project I assume. From classics to dime-store pulp from the roaring 20s. If the copyright has expired or for some reason it’s available, you’ll probably find it here. Search and ye shall find. This is how I read Moby Dick….I printed out 50 pages a day and read on the train.


http://rexwordpuzzle.blogspot.com/
Rex Parker is the NY Times Puzzle savant and his blog is fun reading as he deconstructs nearly every clue and tosses in clips and comments about his other enthusiams…I used to visit when the puzzle was more challenging and wanted to see what he had to say, but the puzzle has become too easy of late.


http://www.dailygames.com/
Games. Online. There must be a million just like this, but this is the one I go to when the urge strikes. Not a bad selection of puzzle games.


http://www.55bar.com/
My favorite place to hear music in NYC. Small (and cramped) run-down dive bar with no food (not even pretzels—but they don’t care if you bring your own) about 6 small tables that seat three un-comfortably, about 15 stools at the bar, a few wooden booths in the back and a cover charge that rarely exceeds 10 bucks—and that’s only if they remember to collect it.
But the best musicians in the world play here…and it’s like having them playing in your living room—assuming your living room resembles a beat-up rundown dive bar. Mike Stern is a regular and Richard Bona is fast becoming one. If you see them together (as in photo above) you won’t soon forget it.

My friend and master musician David Shapiro turned me on to Matt Munisteri. http://mattmunisteri.com/index.html
If you like John Pizzarelli but think he can get just a bit too cute and corny –then you’ll like Matt. Old school jazz with genuine craft and enthusiasm. What my son used to call “smile” music.



To make up for this thinner than usual post, I offer you the following from Sidney Bechet, who was to the Sax (and earlier, the clarinet) what Louis Armstrong was to the trumpet. Like Armstrong, Bechet was a huge influence on everyone who followed. In France, he was treated like a god. He was a complicated and difficult character and had a rough and tumble life, but he sure could blow. This clip was from a film shot a year before he died. The tune is his own composition Premier Bal.

Really bummed about the mugger taking my V.S. Pritchett...

...short stories. I was looking forward to every ride on the train when I could get lost in his worlds of the delusional, disappointed, desperate, dilatory, displaced and almost always at least mildly eccentric and comically perverse people immersed in the damp and foggy confines of middle class life in mid 20th century England.


I just happened to come across an article about him online yesterday in which the author pays tribute to the man who almost single-handedly brought distinction to the often unappreciated and undervalued art of the English short story. I’m hooked on the stuff and will probably be combing the shelves of the Mercantile Library this afternoon in search of more.




What’s been going through my head the most since last Thursday is the entire phenomenon (for want of a better word) of Fear. It’s such a primal force and such a powerful influence on so many things in life. And perhaps because this was on my mind while...



... scanning bookshelves at home looking for a replacement for Mr. Pritchett, I plucked out a medium size volume entitled “ A History of the Mind” by Nicholas Humphrey.

It’s a mostly non-technical and philosophical exploration of the topic and from what I’ve read so far, fairly engaging in an informal, though scientifically supported and disciplined way. It’s primarily focused on how the mind processes sensation and produces subjective perception and unlike a lot of current literature does not get into contemporary theories about neurological hard wiring and artificial intelligence and all the latest chemistry of the brain research. And I suspect somewhere along the line I’m going to encounter a discussion of Fear—so I’ll hang back and see if that helps to spark a more cogent discussion on my part and provides me with more elements of interest beyond the spontaneous speculations arising out of my single and purely subjective isolated experience last week.

My sister Debby wrote to me about the pleasure and privilege she had over the weekend of meeting and enjoying (in intimate and social surroundings) the musical magic of Edgar Meyer. I've been a fan since hearing his duets album with Bela Fleck and everything else I've heard is just as amazing. To me, he's like Richard Bona or Pablo Casals or Segovia in the sense that when you hear (or see) him, you get the feeling that the music is playing him more than the other way around. It's as if he is simply letting the music pass through him on it's way to your ears without any "middle-man" of effort or technical difficulty to get in the way. It's enough to make any other musician just forget about ever coming anywhere close. There's a ton to choose from online including a documentary about Meyer and his work with Bach--which if you close your eyes, sounds like a cello--with the addition of a thunderous low register. But this one here with Bela Fleck is fun. Edgar idles for first 1:30, but then he puts it in gear.

IF YOU SEE THIS GUY, TELL HIM TO CALL ME...I GOT THE 5 DOLLAR BILL HE DROPPED.




So….after spending a long weekend doing all the administrative stuff to reclaim all my identities and getting day to day necessities replaced and repaired—(AND A BIG SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY WHO GAVE ME MORE ATTENTION AND SYMPATHY THAN WAS WARRANTED--AND HELPED ME HAVE FUN WHEN I WASN'T SCRAMBLING WITH CHORES) I thought I had left no stone unturned. This morning I get on my bike (which is how I usually get to and from the train—except on days when I’m trying to make things easy for muggers) and when I get to the station I realize that I don’t have the key to the lock. Cause it’s in my bag. And the mugger has (or rather, had, as you’ll see later) my bag. So I arrange the bike and the lock in the bike rack to make it appear (to the non-criminal eye) that it’s locked up. I guess I’ll find out tonight how well I managed it. Would be a helluva funny epilogue to the whole story if the bike is gone when I get there tonight.

First stop today is MTA in midtown. Gotta get a new monthly train pass. Office in Manhattan is typical of most Govt. offices. Institutional colors (Which are what actually? Green, gray and dark gray?) The guy helping me is understanding. But he wants proof of purchase for my original train pass. The form I downloaded online had to get signed by the police (check) had to be notarized (check), but nowhere was there mention of this requirement. I tell him so. He says it’s a requirement anyway. I say “ How would I have known that?” He says I should have called. I said that I went online, where I was encouraged to do it all online myself—which I did. He said that I did all the right things—except for this one thing. I said I didn’t want to have to come back. He asked if I could access my credit card account and find a record of the purchase. I said I could, but “not now, and not here.” I needed my account info to do that. He expressed his sympathy for my predicament. I said if he could issue me a replacement card now, I would fax or e-mail him the receipt later in the day. He said he believed me but that’s against regulations and ah, well, it just went back and forth like this until I asked if there was a supervisor around who might be able to make an exception in this case…which there was, and for which she did, and I got my new monthly pass. Whole thing coulda taken ten minutes, but with the Alice in Wonderland routine, it took thirty.

Got a message at the office when I got in from the Police two towns north of mine. They found my bag. But, they didn’t know that I was the muggee. They thought it was just a case of lost and found. When I filled them in on the details, they told me that they now have to turn the bag over to the police in my town who will probably dust it for prints and keep it for evidence for a while. I’m curious to know what remains of the contents. Can’t imagine he left me the iPod, or the swiss army knife, or the small bottle of tequila. But I’m hoping he left my papers (especially the Jobim music transcriptions) and eyeglasses and the V.S. Pritchett book I was in the middle of …and MY BIKE LOCK KEY!

I promised a couple of posts back to bring you the guy who “started it all.” The All being Limericks. Actually he didn’t start it, but he popularized it and he was…

Born in May 12, 1812.
The 20th of 21 children.
When he was four, his father suffered a financial collapse and was sent to prison for fraud and debt.
Soon after he was abandoned by his mother.
He was raised by his older sister.
He suffered from asthma, bronchitis, depression and epilepsy.
At 15 he started to earn his own living as an illustrator.
He worked for ten years as an ornithological and natural history draughtsman.
In the early 1830s he wrote his first Limerick.
He was Edward Lear.


And since Dickens is getting all the bi-centennial attention , I thought I'd toot Lear's horn since he too was an 1812 Baby.



“Nonsense is the breath of my nostrils,” he once wrote, and his joy in absurdity reflected his whole approach to “this ludicrously whirligig life which one suffers first & laughs at afterwards.”

There's something about "Nonsense" writing that appeals to me. Like puns, or many forms of wordplay, it's not about meaning or even lack of meaning. It's about playfulness. Lear wasn't all that sophisticated with his limericks, and most of them began with a standard introduction of the subject and then ended with a repeat of the name with only a verb, adverb, or other modifier added to wrap up the tale.

There was an Old Man of Madras,
Who rode on a cream-coloured ass;
But the length of its ears,
So promoted his fears,
That it killed that Old Man of Madras.

this one is a rare exception to the rule:

There was an Old Man who supposed,
That the street door was partially closed;
But some very large rats,
Ate his coats and his hats,
While that futile old gentleman dozed.

The form has had more clever and imaginative practitioners since..but he was a pioneer and man oh man, he sure could draw.