Monday music, 12.14.09

This isn’t my favorite Christmas carol… I’ll visit there next week. However, the lovely Silent Night conjures the season in a way few songs can. Although, despite the stories Mohr & Grubar didn’t perform it for the first time as a result of mice gnawing through the organ reeds. It was a simple song for a community Midnight Mass. Less mythological, and IMHO, more moving is its use during World War I. The underappreciated French film, Joyeux Noël brilliantly retells the story.

Personally, the song is one of those I connect with my Daddy. When you’re a kid, you take polls — OK, I did. You know, what’s your favorite color? your favorite animal? and? and? and what’s your favorite Christmas song? My Dad, who patiently answered all of them, smiled like he did when he was about to start a story, “Silent Night, in German.”

During WWII, my Dad was a brand new father (my oldest brother) who turned down Officer School so he could stay stateside for his family. My brother was desperately ill, so my Dad spent the War experiencing amazing adventures at various Army bases throughout the US. Christmas found him in Georgia guarding German POWs, which he found fascinating. Daddy was insatiably curious, I guess I had to learn it somewhere, and his eager interest quickly made him immensely popular with the Germans. He said they all hated Hitler, were mostly conscripts and loved to talk about the difference in their respective farmlands and airplanes. Anyway, that Christmas Eve the prisoners surprised him with a chocolate cake — they had saved their sugar rations to make it for him. He remembered walking through that soft southern night hearing little groups of the prisoners singing….

Silent Night by Franz Xaver Gruber (music); Joseph Mohr (words)

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.
Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Hirten erst kundgemacht
Durch der Engel Halleluja,
Tönt es laut von fern und nah:
Christ, der Retter ist da!
Christ, der Retter ist da!

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Gottes Sohn, o wie lacht
Lieb’ aus deinem göttlichen Mund,
Da uns schlägt die rettende Stund’.
Christ, in deiner Geburt!
Christ, in deiner Geburt!

md madonna

not-so-silent playlist: Ave Maria (my mom loved this — check out the Charlotte Church version); Blue Christmas (I know it should be Elvis — but I love Grover Washington’s cut); Christmas in Kilarney (such a Going My Way moment, and so Bing); Douce Nuit (Kali — great Caribbean vibe); The Friendly Beasts (“I said the dove…” every kid pageant); The Hallelujah Chorus (probably the Mormon Tabernacle Choir take — we went to see the Messiah every year as a child); Hark! the Herald Angels Sing (the best version has to be the sing-along from Charlie Brown); Holly Jolly Christmas (Burl Ives from Rudolph); I’ll be Home for Christmas (Bette Midler — listening to this & watching my Aunt’s home movies from the front in Vietnam); Joy to the World (can anyone sing like Aretha); Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow (try Lena Horne with everyone piled in the car — driving along in a rare Carolina snowstorm); O Holy Night (I’m sure there’s a version from my childhood, but I love the Irma Thomas cut); Once in Royal David’s City (my mom had to hear it at least once a season — Mary Chapin Carpenter); Peace on Earth/Silent Night (Peggy Lee melds the two rather gracefully); Silver Bells (this always conjures Bob Hope Christmas specials — try Asleep at the Wheel); Sugar Rum Cherry (Duke Ellington is just the most creative); We Three Kings (Michael Doucet or the Miracles just rock this minor key thrill); White Christmas (it has to be the Bing-ster) and of course, Silent Night (there’s lots of ‘big’ versions, but the simpler the better — I love Patty Loveless and Mahalia Jackson)

Curiousity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind –> Samuel Johnson

Take care,
Aly

Monday music, 12.7.09

Sometimes, prose becomes poetry.

In history, there are those small pieces of oratory that encapsulate a moment, words that transport listeners to a time and place in the human story. Think of Washington reading Paine to the shivering, ill-clad soldiers at Valley Forge, Lincoln in the autumn splendor and pathos of Gettysburg — changing the world in nine sentences, or Franklin Roosevelt responding to a shattered winter Sunday morning…..

While interviewing WWII vets, they remember that day. They tell me, those here on the East Coast, of coming home from church, having lunch and then the world changed. The next morning, listening to scratchy sounds broadcast coast-to-coast, they talk of a leader who brought America together in shock, sorrow and resolve.

Yesterday, December 7, 1941 — a date which will live in infamy — the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that Nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its Government and its Emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to the Secretary of State of form reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese Government had deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. Very many American lives have been lost. In addition American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday the Japanese Government also launched an attack against Malaya.

Daddy in WWII

Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.

Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our Nation.

As Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense.

Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger.

With confidence in our armed forces — with the unbounded determination of our people — we will gain the inevitable triumph — so help us God.

I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December seventh, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.

Franklin D. Roosevelt
The White House, December 8, 1941

WWII music (with a few updates): GI Jive (Johnny Mercer); Don’t Get Around Much Anymore (I love Harry Connick’s version); Sunday, Monday or Always (Bing, who just croons this one); Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy (the Andrews Sisters is classic, but Bette Midler rocks it and the Puppini sisters are cute); Lili Marlene (Lale Anderson — to my Dad this was WWII); Swingin’ on a Star (John Lithgow, yes that John Lithgow, has a cool one); Again (Doris Day — this is such a yearny song); Johnny has Gone for a Soldier (James Taylor makes this shine); One O’Clock Jump (Benny Goodman); There’ll Be Bluebirds over the White Cliffs of Dover (Dick Todd); Elmer’s Tune (Glenn Miller); You’d Be So Nice to Come Home To (Dinah Shore); We’ll Meet Again (the Ink Spots); Carolina in the Morning (Dean Martin — this is a “home” song for me); Atom & Evil (the Golden Gate Quartet — atomic warfare in song, there’s really nothing like it); Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree (the Andrews Sisters — there’s no one else for this); and Oh, How I Hate to get up in the morning (Irving Berlin — I used to think this was a made-up song, my Dad would sing it in the AM as he flicked my lights on & off)

Words — so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in the dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them –> Nathaniel Hawthorne

Take care,
Aly

Monday music, 11.30.09

Do you remember when you first went away without your children? And it seemed as if every single person you met was accompanied by their cute, delightful daughter, punctuating the longing you felt for your own child.

Likewise, when it’s time to call the supremely awesome babysitter, I begin to see couples everywhere. At the mall, at the library — those two were 800, and she was helping him choose a book — it was so cool to listen to their discussion, and even at the grocery. Although, that shouldn’t surprise me, a memorable early date with Chris included dancing in the produce section at a Fresh Market.

Verlaine, le triste vivant, captures that blend of passion and effervescence. His Paris of the gilded Victorian era fostered an opulence of emotion that often made sentiment suspect. An alternate mine of deep, rich passion can be found in the letters smoldering between John & Abigail Adams.

The Young Fools by Paul Verlaine (trans. by Louis Simpson)

High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress
So that, between the wind and the terrain,
At times a shining stocking would be seen,
And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.

Also, at times a jealous insect’s dart
Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white
Nape flashed beneath the branches, and this sight
Was a delicate feast for a young fool’s heart.

Evening fell, equivocal, dissembling,
The women who hung dreaming on our arms
Spoke in low voices, words that had such charms
That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.

passionate music: anything Chopin (he jumbles nationalism, romance and pathos rather rhythmically); or Django & Grapelli (they channel Henry Miller, Anäis Nin, Stein and all the delicious sordidness of inter-war Europe); Ain’t Even Done with the Night (John Mellencamp — although the mood gets tempered by the memory of a little boy yelling, “mommy, they’re playing the ain’t done with the knife song”); Angel Tonight (Leigh Nash); Do Ya think I’m sexy (Rod Stewart — yes, as long as I can listen & not see you); Damn, I wish I was your lover (Sophie B. Hawkins — shouldn’t love this, I do); Hello, Young Lovers (from the King & I — the apex of longing); History of Lovers (Calexico with Iron & Wine — such a perfect pairing); I Burn for You (Sting — yummy song, one of the worst movies ever, and it goes on and on and on); I Wanna be your Lover or Diamonds & Pearls (Prince — do you want in your face or subtle? OK, he could pretty much sing the periodic table, and it would be sexy); In the Midnight Hour (Wilson Pickett — late night djs and cool music); Let’s Spend the Night Together (the Stones — usually straightforward & uncomplicated); Lover Man (I love Charlie Parker’s mood altering version); No Other Lover (BLUE ON GREEN — they like caps and neat cuts); Passionate Kisses (Mary Chapin Carpenter — her words could seduce rocks); Sex on Fire (Kings of Leon — I just like this song); Steal My Kisses (Ben Harper — just an easy groove); Until the Night (Billy Joel — just follow the rhythm); Warm Love (Van Morrison — walking along the beach, holding hands and digging your toes into the sand); and Wonderful Tonight (Eric Clapton — I know it’s the cheese whiz of cheesiest, but I can’t help it, total melt)

What a grand thing to be loved! What a grander thing still, to love! –> Victor Hugo

Take care,
Aly

Dear Mr/Ms. Postperson, (…or thank you notes I didn’t send on Thursday)

Now don’t get me wrong, my life inspires profound gratitude — between work, my loves and the people and places that astonish me daily — I treasure all its glorious, messy details.

For Thanksgiving, however, I thought I’d send a few notes to several folks one wouldn’t ordinarily acknowledge.

Dear Bumper-sticker-plastered-car people,

Thanks so much for shortening the “let me get to know you & your likes and dislikes” friend process. I guess in our drive-thru world, you are just making my life simpler. So Miss Prius with the “dirt worshipping tree-hugger,” the “darwin fish,” and the “coexist” sticker — I think we could hang. But you, dude, in the Blazer sporting naked girl mudflaps with stickers reading “heritage not hate” and the confederate battle flag — ’cause you know, it may be heritage but it’s pretty hating — not so much. You say, you’re more than those stickers and I should know you before I judge….. really?

Dear David Letterman, Chris Brown, Jon Gosselin, and all current celebrity I’m-a-Sinner’s,

Thanks so much for allowing me to make my daughter’s 6th grade health class come alive. How kind of you to take the time to commit felonies, tarnish your reputation(s) and in general act like an ass, just so I could educate my child in the choices she shouldn’t make in life. Although I do have to commend you, Mr. Letterman. I did get to say, that’s how you own up without weaseling — rather refreshing for a lesson in this category.

and

Dear Norbert (the fat, fuzzy groundhog down the street),

Thanks so much for giving me a lesson in resilience and reminding me of the magic of a mom’s imagination. In case you’re wondering, Knoxville has rather more groundhogs than bunnies, and so I have relentlessly anthropomorphicized you & your brethren. It has been rather wonderful to watch you sunning yourself on these autumn afternoons. Then, without warning, the little house behind which you burrowed was flattened by the bulldozers. Anxiously, I scanned the field each time I drove your way. Finally, I saw you busily digging a new hole. Cheers erupted in the car — and I knew you would be fine. Thanks also, because as I keep the girls updated on your saga — I remember stories from my mother. When I was a little girl, Mama was in the hospital for six months. We weren’t allowed to go up to her room to visit, so she waved at us from the balcony as we sat on picnic tables in a little grove of trees. She wrote down stories about the squirrels that lived in that little glade. Chippy and Chappy (the squirrels) had many adventures, but were always safe because “Mama” squirrel loved and protected them.

As I said, I don’t anticipate mailing anonymous drivers, groundhogs and zipper-challenged celebrities letters anytime soon, yet they are among those who have brought wonder, clarity and most definitely humor to the past year!

postal songs: The Letter (Natalie Merchant, she does the longest encores of anyone I’ve ever heard); Wanted to Write a Love Song (the Cat Empire — love or hate kind of band); Lady Writer (Dire Straits – they are one of my go-to bands); Death Letter (I like John Mellencamp’s cover, but if I’m going traditional check out Son Volt); I’m Gonna Sit Right Down & Write Myself a Letter (8 billion people have recorded this, but Madeleine Peyroux’s version is charming & jazzy); Send Your Love (Sting, featuring Vicente Amigo- insistently jazzy, with a pop hook); Please Read the Letter (Alison Krauss & Robert Plant — a strangely effective duo); Love Letter (Bonnie Raitt does it best, but Natalie Cole has a convincing cover); Airmail Special (David Grisman, John Hartford, & Mike Seeger — love, love, love the Retrograss album); Little Love Letter #1 (Carlene Carter — I think she’s under-appreciated); Return to Sender (Elvis – ’cause he HAS to be here); Letters (Donna Hughes — she is so cool, I hope to see her again in December, maybe?); Letter to Eve (Indigo Girls-where are they now?); You Send Me (Sam Cooke-he was just coooool); Hello It’s Me (Todd Rundgren — not as cool, but I always imagined this song, as drunk writing instead of dialing); Signed, Sealed, Delivered (Stevie Wonder – my oldest loves this song, which is pretty neat) and Please Mister Postman (the Beatles- the standard)

Write it on your heart that every day is the best day of the year. –> Ralph Waldo Emerson

Take care,
Aly

Monday music, 11.23.09

It’s time for Book Fair!

Do you recall the Scholastic flyers that came home in our backpacks as kids? Circling your choices, Christmas coming every six weeks or so — remember this was in the era before a mega bookstore was on every corner. Then there was the Book Fair — a room at school converted into a wonderland full of books to purchase. Once I pulled all my savings together and bought the classic EB White trilogy (Charlotte’s Web, Stuart Little & Trumpet of the Swan) at a price a 10 year old girl could afford. It was wonderful.

For the past seven years, I have either helped to coordinate or volunteered at a Fair for the girls’ schools. Watching all the children discover the same thrill of finding a book that is “theirs,” clutching that last little bit of change to buy a gift certificate for a beloved teacher — how can you contain the delight?

Speaking of thrilling delights (or not) — today’s poet is known far more for his adventure novels than his poetry. This lovely little bit of whimsy evokes cozy nooks, and treasured friends of the paged persuasion. Austen, Dumas, and Thurber are among those with whom I can cuddle. Who brings on your snuggle?

The Land of Story-books by Robert Louis Stevenson

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.

Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.

There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter’s camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.

These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.

I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.

So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Story-books.

book list: Adventures in Solitude (the New Pornographers — surprisingly well crafted hook); It’s Only Make Believe (Sam Moore’s version is kick butt); The Book I Read (Talking Heads — what can you say, creative & quirky); More Adventurous (Rilo Kiley — I love her stuff); The Book of My Life (Sting with Anoushka Shankar — he could sing about shoe leather); Makes Me Wonder (Maroon 5 — tasty bubblegum, don’t you think?); Beauty of Uncertainty (KT Tunstall — she would appreciate Stevenson); The Story Book Ball (Maria Muldaur — bluesy singer who created some amazing children’s music); My Little Brown Book (Duke Ellington & John Coltrane — right now I’m trying to find an album with Duke, ‘Trane & Miles together); Bookends Theme (Simon & Garfunkel — off an almost perfect album); I Could Write a Book (from Pal Joey — illusions shattered in that it’s Jo Ann Greer who sings for the ever gorgeous Rita Hayworth); Storybook Children (Bette Midler); Wishin’ and Hopin’ (Dusty Springfield — such a great talent); Wishing Well (ok, I like the Terence Trent D’Arby version); Sitting, Waiting, Wishing (Jack Johnson) and Dear Mr. Fantasy (Traffic rules with this one).

From your parents you learn love and laughter and how to put one foot before the other. But when books are opened you discover you have wings. –> Helen Hayes

Take care,
Aly

Monday music, 11.16.09

Yesterday I took my youngest to basketball practice. Due to a fortuitous “who-has-the-keys-to-the-gym” kerfuffle, we ended up at an outside court, playing in the warm Indian summer afternoon.

During the 5-on-5, my baby caught a pass, spun and dropped the shot. Watching her glowing face, the pull of the clenched fist and the “yes,” shouted as she raced back for defense, I saw the passion that marks a contender. The girls played hard, and yet the venue painted the practice in playground colors, the drills and exercises more fun for the novelty of the day.

My older used the wide open area to work out her dance routines for tonight’s class. She kicked, sashayed and twirled, all long legs and lithe arms, to the songs streaming through her ear buds — each movement sure, yet delicate. Her stage is anywhere, and she would choreograph moves for a funeral dirge — though yesterday’s mellow sunshine seemed quite a bit more upbeat.

Both my daughters are athletes, graceful and strong. Each brings dedication and stubborn determination to excel at her sport. Today’s songwriter captured that dynamic in a song that became the theme of the women’s ACC tournament last year. Damien Horne is an emerging artist from Hickory, NC — who’s work captures a laid-back southern rock vibe.

She Can Play by Damien Horne
She is a hero in disguise
Whenever I watch herI’m mesmerized, Oh…
And when im’ near her I can see
Why I believe in Anything, oh

She can play she can move
Oh athena is it you
She can play she can fly
Aphrodite come to life

And she makes me makes makes me makes me feel this way. Cause she can play

She’s a fighter with one goal
Full of desire To win it all, Oh
She’s a survivor she won’t fall
This I know, this I know, oh oh

She can play she can move
Oh athena is it you
She can play she can fly
Aphrodite come to life

And she makes me makes makes me makes me feel this way.

(bridge) When she plays, all my troubles seem to fade away, when she plays I’m reminded there are better days, better days…

She can play she can move
Oh athena is it you
She can play she can fly
Aphrodite come to life

And she makes me makes makes me makes me feel this way. Cause She can play…she can play….

Today’s playlist today comes from my daughters. The two of them, being my girls, have created playlists to fuel their energy for performances and/or games.
girl list: Fireflies (Owl City — perfect to make up dances to); Should I Stay or Should I Go (the Clash – the younger has a thing for classic rock); Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (from Spamalot — I love that they love this song); Don’t Worry ’bout a Thing (SheDAISY – great philosophy); Fame (I like the classic, but the girls like the new cover from Naturi Naughton); In the Mood (the classic Glenn Miller cut); I Gotta Feeling (the Black-Eyed Peas — so 2009); Disturbia (Rihanna — talk about some parenting discussions, whew); I Stand (Idina Menzel — wow!); Suddenly I See (KT Tunstall); Ready for a Miracle (LeAnn Rimes, a lot more soul than you’d expect); Who Are You (the Who — classic); Love Story (Taylor Swift — sorry Kanye); Together Again (from Young Frankenstein — you ought to see the daughter performance of this one); 96,000 (from In the Heights — all the Army girls want to see this musical); Halo/Walking on Sunshine (a mash-up from Glee that the girls love); Transylvania Mania (again from Young Frankenstein — I think it’s closed on Broadway, sigh); Centerfield (John Fogerty — “put me in coach”); Defying Gravity (from Wicked — there is adulation of the show & the song); and of course, She Can Play (Damien Horne)

Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart –> Confucius

Take care,
Aly

Monday music, 11.9.09

In the 11th hour of the 11th day during the 11th month — the guns fell silent and war ended forever……

Don’t you wish that had happened — that subsequent generations would never know the pain, the throb and the overwhelming divisiveness of war.

With lots of help, we’ve put together a Veteran’s Day program at the elementary school to honor the many who have served our country. It’s important for the kids to see the WWII vets, the Vietnam vets, all those including those currently serving. These moments link them to history.

This year I’ve centered the program on a lovely children’s book by Margot Theiss Raven, about the “candy bombers” and the goodwill they engendered in a broken post-WWII Europe. During the late 1940s, the story achieved much the same luster of “In Flanders Fields.” John McCrae, the unfortunate Canadian Army surgeon, lived long enough to see the wildfire acceptance of his little poem — but died early in 1918 before war’s end.

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky 

The larks, still bravely singing, fly 

Scarce heard amid the guns below. 


We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie, 

In Flanders fields. 


Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw 

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

war is over: Just Like That (Kieran Kane); Blowing in the Wind (the classic Dylan is probably best, or least cheesy); Don’t Sit under the Apple Tree (the Andrews sisters, they were just cool); I’d Like to teach the world to sing (I like Bobby Bare’s cover — it’s more than a Coke ad); Peaceful World (John Mellencamp — one of the inheritors of the protest song mantle); Don’t you wish it was true (John Fogerty — awesome lyrics); Dreams Come True (Lone Justice — I think of the end of the Berlin Wall on this one); Bombs Away (the Police); Give Peace a Chance (John Lennon); When the War is Over (JJ Cale & Eric Clapton — surprisingly folky); Cool, Cool, Considerate Men (from 1776 — the politics behind the peace); War (Edwin Starr — can everyone sing a few bars); Through the Storm (Aretha Franklin & Elton John — what an awesome recording); Peaceful Easy Feeling (the Eagles — every once in a while); Lili Marlene (Lale Anderson — my Daddy really loved this one); Rosie the Riveter (the four Vagabonds); Rehumanize Yourself (the Police — such great lyrics for group think); The War is Over (Phil Ochs — he makes the whole world march); and Thanks for the Memories (Bob Hope — for every USO tour, and every special that helped us remember that when we say “troops,” we mean men and women)

my daddy, 1942

Every act of love is a work of peace no matter how small. –> Mother Teresa

Take care,
Aly

Monday music, 11.2.09

Have you had the sheer and utter pleasure of reading Douglas Adams’ glorious Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?

He plays plot, syntax and phrasing with as much joy and wit as Bruce Hornsby and Thelonious Monk. The subsequent four books in the “trilogy,” The Restaurant at the End of the Universe; Life, the Universe and Everything; So Long and Thanks for all the Fish and Mostly Harmless aren’t so much a continuation of a linear reading experience as a ramble through a world both hilarious and absorbing. What could possibly equal the peak experience of my first “Hitchhiker” book?

I’ll tell you.

The very first authorized sequel has just been released and I began it today sitting in carpool…..wow, oh wow!! Eoin Colfer, noted young adult author and brave “into-big-shoes-stepper,” delights from the opening lines!

Lest you think my language passion begins and ends with cool sci-fi writers, try this delightful tongue stretcher from the imagination of the ever-great Lewis Carroll — another who made the fantastical real and the commonplace magic….

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

‘Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!’

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

‘And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

un-sense songs: Abracadabra (the Steve Miller Band — you know it, come on….); Who Can it Be Now? (Men at Work — I always thought of them as Australia’s Village People); Silly Love Songs (Paul McCartney — I had this and Disco Duck on a 45 when I was a little girl); Crazy as Me (Allison Krauss & Union Station); The Umbrella Man (Dizzy Gillespie — he played with music like it was a toy); Pencil Thin Mustache (Jimmy Buffet — I’ve tried to actually not smile when this song was on); Crazeology (Charlie Parker); Bling-Blang (Arlo Guthrie); Boney Bones (Louis Prima & Keely Smith — talk about fun); Black Horse and the Cherry Tree (KT Tunstall); 59th Street Bridge Song (Simon & Garfunkel); Laughing at Birds (the Subdudes — they tend to fly under the radar, but they are a rocking band); Crazy Island (John Mellencamp); Have a Good Time (Paul Simon — just grooves into your system); Absolutely Barking Stars (Maria McKee — do you miss Lone Justice, too?); Kiko & the Lavender Moon (Los Lobos — love them so much!); Mairzy Doats (Al Trace & his Silly Symphonists); 40 Acres & a Fool (Del McCoury — so much irony, such good bluegrass); Words Unspoken (Steve Martin); Shadows in the Rain (both the Police version & the Sting and the Blue Turtles versions are awesome, but the latter, the breakneck cut from the solo album is tightly frenetic); and of course, Space is the Place (Bruce Hornsby)

The poet’s goal is to light up the sky –> Ted Kooser

Monday music, 10.26.09

Last night I dreamed Scarlett O’Hara was dancing to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” As she shimmied past, doing the moonwalk, she flung that big leghorn hat, you know the one with the forest green ribbons, into my arms. I whirled around with it clutched tightly, began tapping my heels together, whispering “home….”

Now we could argue that I’m in dire need of therapy or that I’ve imbibed way too much popular culture over the course of my life….

Palestinian poet, Mahmoud Darwish, has been called a “man of peace in a place of war.” He understood the primal longing that home evokes in the most transient of souls. Enjoy….

I Belong There by Mahmoud Darwish

I belong there. I have many memories. I was born as everyone is born.
I have a mother, a house with many windows, brothers, friends, and a prison cell
with a chilly window! I have a wave snatched by seagulls, a panorama of my own.
I have a saturated meadow. In the deep horizon of my word, I have a moon,
a bird’s sustenance, and an immortal olive tree.
I have lived on the land long before swords turned man into prey.
I belong there. When heaven mourns for her mother, I return heaven to her mother.
And I cry so that a returning cloud might carry my tears.
To break the rules, I have learned all the words needed for a trial by blood.
I have learned and dismantled all the words in order to draw from them a single word:
Home.

home tunes: Down Home Girl (Old Crow Medicine Show — they are a kick-ass band, with each album they get tighter); Walking My Baby Back Home (OK — I love JT’s throwaway version on the Hourglass album); Touching Home (Teddy Thompson); Baby Won’t you Please Come Home (Sidney Bechet — he just defies description); Goin Home (BB King & Ivan Neville have a rocking cover); Stay Home (from Shrek — I love the entire soundtrack); Sentimental Journey (any version, anytime — though Renee Olstead has a glorious take); Old Folks at Home (take your pick of just about any Stephen Foster song); Coming Home (Lizz Wright — her voice is rich, without being treacly); Polly Come Home (Robert Plant & Allison Krauss); Won’t Go Home without You (Maroon 5 — pop boys, but I like the song); A Home (Dixie Chicks — the more independent they become, the better their music); Who Says You Can’t Go Home (Bon Jovi & Jennifer Nettles — it’s just fun); Won’t You Come Home Bill Bailey (there are several awesome takes — check out Harry Connick’s version); Way Back Home (the Wreckers); You Ain’t Down Home (Julie Roberts — love how her voice slides down the chorus); Find My Way Home (None of the Above — a NC bluegrass band that needs to be way more popular); and Homeward Bound (Simon & Garfunkel — one of those desert island songs)

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place. –> Zora Neale Hurston

Take care,
Aly

Monday music, 10.19.09

What do you remember about being sick as a kid?

For me, it’s my Daddy propping his foot up on the couch where I was wrapped in an afghan, strumming his guitar and singing old Hank Williams’ songs. My favorites were “Half as Much,” and “Kawliga.” And he pushed fruit — oranges, apples, grapefruit. Vitamin C could heal anything!

My mom stressed cleanliness — she was OCD way before it was hip. As soon as you could lift your head from the pillow, she popped you in the shower, “you’ll feel better if you’re clean.” Then she always laid out something soft and vibrantly colored to wear, “you’ll feel better wearing red.”

And of course, they were right

To this day, when the girls are sick — we stock up on navel oranges, I lay out their softest, brightest clothes, and send them to the shower….. me, it’s a great excuse for bright red lipstick!

Today’s poet is Shel Silverstein. If all you know of his work is The Giving Tree, which I personally find a little too martyr-ish for pleasure, discover his subversive, silly and utterly delightful poems…

“Sick” by Shel Silverstein

‘I cannot go to school today, ‘
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
‘I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more-that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut-my eyes are blue-
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke-
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is-what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is…Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!’

sick songs: Splish Splash (the version from Adam Schleshinger/James Iha used in Because of Winn-Dixie really works); Me vs. the World (Halo Friendlies); Better (Regina Spektor); Keepin’ out of Mischief Now (Taj Mahal — he’s just awesome); Ac-cent-tchu-ate the Positive (Dr. John has a kicking cover, and so does John Lithgow); Doctor’s Orders (check out the duet by Aretha & Luther Vandross); Love in the Ruins (Animal Logic — I wish they’d stayed together for a few more albums); Making the Best of a Bad Situation (Tom Rush — guaranteed giggle); Medicated Goo (Traffic); All you ever do is bring me down (the Mavericks — great song); Half as Much (of course, Hank is classic — but Rosemary Clooney covered it amazingly, and Van Morrison does a nice job); Hello Good Morning (Sick of Sarah — on the snarky edge of cool); Button Up your overcoat (Dick Haymes — advice in song, who knew?); Alone in the Universe (from Seussical the Musical); Heavy Cloud No Rain (Sting — sort of a ‘cowboy’ song — he does them once in a while); Kaw-Liga (Hank — and my Daddy ); Are You Having any Fun (Tony Bennett & Elvis Costello — so weird it works); The Polar Bear Stomp (the Chenille Sisters — my youngest adores this song); and of course, A Spoonful of Sugar (Julie Andrews)

Happiness is good health and a bad memory –> Ingrid Bergman

Take care,
Aly