Totally safe for work (in that way), but you may want to turn down your sound, unless you work with a lot of Hendrix fans.
Hey, I’ve used weird things for picks, too.
Tip of the old scrub brush to Happy Jihad’s House of Pancakes.
Totally safe for work (in that way), but you may want to turn down your sound, unless you work with a lot of Hendrix fans.
Hey, I’ve used weird things for picks, too.
Tip of the old scrub brush to Happy Jihad’s House of Pancakes.
Digital television brings us an additional channel with KERA, our local PBS station. The second channel carries programming from PBS World.
Great stuff, lots of repeats of the science shows, convenient rebroadcasts of The Newshour. And promos with interesting music. One promo features a twisting camera with odd angles on two people doing twists on a trampoline. It looks like they are bungee jumping at first. It’s got good music that qualifies as earworm stuff, ending with the vocal line, “It’s looking like a beautiful day.”
Finally took the time to track it down. Elbow is the band, “One Day Like This” is the song. Live version with the BBC Concert Orchestra and a choir called Chantage, below. Obviously I’m not the only one who likes the performance.
How did we ever do this stuff before the internet?
Chicago blues legend Buddy Guy is moving his club, Buddy Guy’s Legends. Guy’s club announced the move last September.
We visited the club four years ago during the giant Midwest Clinic, where Duncanville’s Wind Ensemble debuted a tribute to Rosa Parks just a few days after her death (Samuel R. Hazo’s “Today Is the Gift”) and *spent a memorable evening going slightly deaf to the Kinsey Report.
Following federal law on how blues club should be, the walls tell stories of blues past, blues well-remembered, good blues players who visited, and stories of blues in general. A neophyte can get a good education just looking at the walls in a good club. One wall wore a painting of what could have been Mount Rushmore, which piqued my history radar — but in place of Washington, Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt and Lincoln, it had Chicago blues legends: Muddy Waters, Sonny Boy Williamson, Little Walter, and Howlin’ Wolf.
Who knows the history of the image? Did Buddy Guy hire it done? Did someone do it as a serious tribute? Was it an image done for a show in the distant past, just pasted onto the wall?
When I heard the club was moving, I feared for the thing, especially since I was not digital at the time and didn’t get a photo of it. To my shock, I couldn’t find any images on the internet.
Then a couple of days ago I ran across a version of the the image, at Today’s Chicago Blues. It’s appropriately called “Mount Bluesmore.”
But the same question remains: Will it be saved with the new venue?
Tip of the old scrub brush to Today’s Chicago Blues — go buy the book.
The Kinsey Report:
* This isn’t blues, below, but it’s worth a listen; I believe it may even be Duncanville’s premiere of Hazo’s tribute to Rosa Parks — alas, without video of the band, and lacking a little on the bass end but otherwise showing off the Wind Ensemble’s performance flair:
This is really good.
It’s a pretty good rundown of the fight between Keynes and Hayek, conducted mostly after Keynes’ death in economics classrooms and central banks world wide.
Watch it, and hope for more soon, at Econstories, the blog of the guys who created the thing, John Papola and Russ Roberts.
Resources:
Ending the Cold War brought no end of benefits to the U.S., including Baltimore’s little civic problem: Where should Baltimore put a bust of Frank Zappa, donated by Lithuanians to his birth city in honor of his standing for freedom?

Striking bust of Frank Zappa donated to the City of Baltimore by Lithuanians, in honor of Zappa's representing freedom to Lithuanians during the Cold War
More than a year ago, Baltimore accepted a bust of Baltimore native Frank Zappa. Valued at $50,000, the bust was a gift from a Lithuanian Zappa fan club.
Since then, officials have been debating where to put it.
His family lived in the 4600 block of Park Heights Ave., then moved to Edgewood in Harford County. Zappa’s father, a chemist and mathematician, had a job nearby at Aberdeen Proving Ground. They moved to California when Frank was 10.
Until they met last night, some members of the Baltimore Public Art Commission, which voted unanimously to accept the gift of the bronze sculpture – valued at about $50,000 – were also unaware of Zappa’s connection to Charm City.
However, the donors of the bust, who come from much farther afield – in fact, from a nation Zappa never visited – are well aware of his background.
“We’re honored to have a chance to present this Frank Zappa monument to the city of Baltimore,” said Saulius Paukstys, 43, the president of one of the biggest and arguably most dedicated Frank Zappa fan clubs in, of all places, the Republic of Lithuania. “As an artist, and much more than that, he has meant a great deal to the Lithuanian people.”
If Zappa has been something of an unknown prophet in his own land, people like Paukstys, a photographer, have long held him in high regard as a symbol of free expression in the post-Cold War former Soviet bloc.
“Before 1990, you have to remember, [Lithuanians] could not criticize society,” Paukstys said through an interpreter. “Frank Zappa was a voice of freedom.”
After 1990, when Western music became available in their home country, Paukstys and friends like Saulius Pilinkus, an art historian, often gathered to listen to Zappa’s music. The fan club they started eventually numbered more than 300. Most were well-educated aesthetes who appreciated the fact that Zappa was more than a rock-and-roll star: He was a symphonic composer, a fact that appealed to a people whose love of classical music is part of their history.
Zappa’s followers number in the millions in the U.S. People who don’t see eye-to-eye on much of anything else agree on Zappa’s genius. Even old sobersides California Judge Ben Davidian is a Zappa fan. (He was especially fond of Zappa’s deeply philosophical question about a Salt Lake City fan’s letter: “Suzy Creamcheese, what’s gotten into you?”)
Zappa’s bust will be one more very good reason to visit Baltimore, in addition to crab cakes, Babe Ruth’s house, the C&O Museum and Sabatino’s.
Foray to the Container Store a success, the question: What to do about dinner?
Kathryn asked, “How about that little German joint in back of Half Price Books?”
The Black Forest Cafe and Bakery. Legendary for its Black Forest Cake. For years it had a small shop inside the “mother ship” of Half Price Books a half-block away. Before Starbucks, in Dallas there was the Black Forest Cafe.
It’s really more like a delicatessan. Out of the way. A real hidden kitchen of Dallas. A refuge for Germans and lovers of German meats, mustards, chocolates.
Not immune to kitsch, though.
We were surprised to find the place packed late on a Friday. At a couple of tables, obviously a part. A private function? We found a table at the rear of the cafe.
And along the way we passed the guy in leiderhosen. He carried a large, burgundy-colored accordion with a German-sounding name.
Soon after we got our seat, he stood up at a microphone in a corner of the place, said a few things and I heard “most popular song of 1957.” Vic Damone on an accordian? Frank Sinatra? Buddy Holly?
“Too Fat Polka!” Kathryn and I both laughed. We knew it from Bob Wills’ repertoire, old cowboy movies. In a crowd of mostly young Dallasites, we would be the only ones to recall it (1957?).
From the opening notes and especially through the chorus, the entire crowd sang along.
Who knew?
The Hungarian-spiced bratwursts exploded with flavor, and the mustard was perfect.
Note: No, it was 1947. An Arthur Godfrey success, McGuire Sisters. And anyone else who had a band and a recording contract in 1947.
An Obama guest, Lin-Manuel Miranda, pushes the envelope on gangsta rap, and history teaching:
You can’t use that in the classroom, teachers? Why not?
More:
Wikipedia notes of Miranda:
He is working on a hip-hop album based upon the life of Alexander Hamilton, entitled The Hamilton Mixtape.[5] He recently performed “The Hamilton Mixtape” at the White House Evening of Poetry, Music, and the Spoken Word on May 12, 2009. Accompanied by Alex Lacamoire. [12]
Tip of the old scrub brush to Slashdot.
A friend wrote about enjoying a production of “Pirates of Penzance” at Oregon State. I looked for YouTube versions . . .
Oh, my!
(Better: Rent one of the movies, either of D’Oyly Carte, or the Linda Ronstadt/Rex Smith/Kevin Kline version.)

Alan Lomax at the typewriter, 1942, using the "hunt and peck method" of typing - Library of Congress photo
Who was Alan Lomax? Have you really never heard of him before?
Lomax collected folk music, on wire recorders, on tape recorders, in written form, and any other way he could, on farms, at festivals, in jails, at concerts, in churches, on street corners — anywhere people make music. He did it his entire life. He collected music in the United States, across the Caribbean, in Britain, Scotland, Ireland, Spain and Italy.

Alan Lomax, Woody Guthrie, Lillie Mae Ledford and an obscured Sonny Terry, New York, 1944 (Library of Congress Collection - photographer unknown)
Almost all of that collection is in the Library of Congress’s unsurpassed American Folklife collection, from which dozens of recordings have been issued.
Born in 1915, Alan Lomax began collecting folk music for the Library of Congress with his father [John Lomax] at the age of 18. He continued his whole life in the pursuit of recording traditional cultures, believing that all cultures should be recorded and presented to the public. His life’s work, represented by seventy years’ worth of documentation, will now be housed under one roof at the Library, a place for which the Lomax family has always had strong connections and great affection.
Were that all, it would be an outstanding record of accomplishment. Lomax was much more central to the folk revivals in the both England and the U.S. in the 1950s and 19602, though, and in truth it seemed he had a hand in everything dealing with folk music in the English-speaking world and then some. Carl Sagan used Lomax as a consultant to help choose the music to be placed on the disc sent into space with the exploring satellite Voyager, “the Voyager Golden Record.”
Have you listened to and loved Aaron Copland’s “Rodeo,” and the famous passage, “Hoedown?” How about Miles Davis, with the Gil Evans-produced “Sketches of Spain?” [Thank you, Avis Ortner.] Then you know the work of Alan Lomax, as Wikipedia explains:
- The famous “Hoedown” in Aaron Copland‘s 1942 ballet Rodeo was taken note for note from Ruth Crawford Seeger‘s piano transcription of the square-dance tune, “Bonypart” (“Bonaparte’s Retreat”), taken from a recording of W. M. Stepp’s fiddle version, originally recorded in Appalachia for the Library of Congress by Alan and Elizabeth Lomax in 1937. Seeger’s transcription was published in Our Singing Country (1941) by John A. and Alan Lomax and Ruth Crawford Seeger.
- Miles Davis‘s 1959 Sketches of Spain album adapts the melodies “Alborada de vigo” and “Saeta” from Alan Lomax’s Columbia World Library album Spain.
Other resources:
“To Hear Your Banjo Play” featuring Pete Seeger, written and produced by Alan Lomax.
Trailer for the PBS P.O.V. film, “The Song Hunter,” by Rogier Kappers
Vodpod videos no longer available.
One more indication of the extreme genius of Ray Charles. How does a blind person play chess? Very well, it appears.
Tip of the old scrub brush for inspiration to Grandmaster Raymond Keene and Bishop Berkeley. They also call our attention to this photo — on a school bus?

John Lennon's manual Imperial typewriter, used when he was a teenager - now owned by Steve Soboroff - Image from Playa Vista Today
Steve Soboroff, CEO of Playa Vista Capital in Playa Vista, California, collects celebrity typewriters on the side. Earlier this year he acquired the typewriter John Lennon used as a teenager, according to Playa Vista Today.
Lennon’s Imperial (The Good Companion Model T) was among the late Beatle’s possessions originally auctioned by his Aunt Mimi to a Liverpool charity involving musical therapy. Soboroff came across Lennon’s writing instrument during an estate sale overseen by Bonhams auction house in England. The portable was originally auctioned through Sotheby’s in 1999. However, the owner succumbed to the economic downturn and put it up for sale earlier this year.
‘I was going to get on an airplane to go get it,’ Soboroff says regarding his summer purchase, which was probably used in the late Beatle’s first attempts at songwriting as a teenager. ‘He was living with his aunt when he owned it,’ he says.
And here’s a photo of John Lennon working at a typewriter other than the Imperial:
Soboroff also owns typewriters used by sportswriter Jim Murray, Ernest Hemingway, George Bernard Shaw, Tennessee Williams, and Jack London.
From the years in consulting, I well recall the myriad articles about superior customer service in Japan, and then Korea. “Delight the customer” philosophies bring people back to repeat purchase, goes the mantra.
So, the old Maytag started to sputter. It may have been repairable, but it was an old machine when we bought it used about a dozen years ago. Repair wouldn’t be cheap. Money for repair might go a long way to purchase of a new machine.
Kathryn shopped hard. Get a money-saver, an electricity-saver, a water saver. We settled on a Samsung front-loader with “vibration reducing technology.” It still cost more than my first two cars put together.
It uses a lot less water. The cycles are longer, but gentler. Clothes come out spun considerably drier than the upright, old Maytag, which means much less time in the dryer. We’re saving electricity and water all the way around.
Remember customer delight?
The first load ended with three gentle bells to tell us — and then, as Kathryn immediately recognized, the opening notes of the theme from the 4th movement of Schubert’s “The Trout Quintet.” The joys of modern technology. Who was it came up with the idea to play Schubert?
We smile with every load.