Even though my parents seemed to survive the great depression pretty well economically, they were scarred by the experience. One way I suspected that was that they refused to talk about it. There were some echoes I experienced:
Syrup: Syrup for pancakes an waffles was corn syrup. I knew nothing else till I went away to Farm and Wilderness summer camp and tasted maple syrup. I was in heaven! And I wondered why I hadn't gotten to taste it before.
Margerine: Likewise my first taste of butter was at summer camp. We lived on margering...which my parents told me had first been (by law) colored green to differentiate from butter.
Of course I never have corn syrup, always buy the fanciest maple syrup I can find, and never eat margerine except (by kosher) in a meat meal.
Probably more significantly than these little food artifacts, I seem to have gotten a pretty good work ethic. Not only can I work hard, but I actually like it. It helps that most of the work I do I love....my job, practicing music, sanding and painting my boats. But the truth is I feel pretty good during and after hard work that is not a labor of love. I am pretty lucky to have developed that trait!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Yes to Value Judgement
The US Govt is considering new information requirements for new cars. One proposal is a grading system (as in "A", etc.) that combines fuel consumption and greenhouse gas pollution.) An average vehicle on fuel efficiency and emissions would receive a B-. Electric vehicles would recieve A+. Plug-in hybrid would receive an A. Gas electric hybrids like the Prius would receive an A- TOyota Camry would receive a B oro B- depending on engine.
Spokeswoman for Alliance of Automobile Manufacturers said, "the letter grade inadvertently suggests a value judgment taking us back to school days where grades were powerful symbols of passing or failing." Better believe it!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Abby Re Jerusalem
If I could take a picture of the smell ofJerusalem
it would look like shit and chlorine.
And in the middle, one goat
chewing graves on the mountainside
with David glaring down.
This is the goat of desecration
eating what’s left, the first word,
last week’s paper.
It wishes to eat all Jerusalem.
It wishes to eat all Jerusalem -
to digest the wall and spit out the ramparts.
Its organs are dusted with Jerusalem stone,
its horns are the Mount of Olives and Zion,
and its coat is desert, desert, desert.
One goat, four stomachs.
One goat, many peoples
worshipping the heart
which beats like an onion,
excreting oils and harvesting tears.
Everyone falls to their knees
at the heart of a goat.
Everyone lies prostrate -
praying for another bite.
it would look like shit and chlorine.
And in the middle, one goat
chewing graves on the mountainside
with David glaring down.
This is the goat of desecration
eating what’s left, the first word,
last week’s paper.
It wishes to eat all Jerusalem.
It wishes to eat all Jerusalem -
to digest the wall and spit out the ramparts.
Its organs are dusted with Jerusalem stone,
its horns are the Mount of Olives and Zion,
and its coat is desert, desert, desert.
One goat, four stomachs.
One goat, many peoples
worshipping the heart
which beats like an onion,
excreting oils and harvesting tears.
Everyone falls to their knees
at the heart of a goat.
Everyone lies prostrate -
praying for another bite.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Bike memories of Newark
I lived in Newark from age 4 till 10. I still think of it as home.
I learned to ride a bike on Hungtington Terrace on a old full sized coaster break, no gears women's bike. It was way too big for me, but somehow I managed.
I sometimes rode to the grocery store or the "variety" store on errands for my parents. My incentive was that I got to keep any pennies in the change and put them in a big display sized liquor bottle my father got through his liquor store in Passaic NJ. (When I finally cashed the bottle in, there was around $40.00 in pennies... a huge fortune.) The Variety store was on Osborne Terrace (one block down and two blocks over from our house.) and I think the grocery store was on Wolcott Terrace (three blocks up and two blocks over.) At the grocery store, I was fascinated by the gripping gadget the grocer could use to grab things off tall shelves. They also had a sliding ladder to get more stuff from upper shelves. I didn't have a basket or bike rack, so I'd wrap the bag around the handle bars and ride off holding on for dear life. It put the bike pretty off balance, but I don't remember dropping anything.
Another bike excursion was the to the local library. The branch on Osborne Terrace is still there: http://www.npl.org/Pages/Branches/Weequahic/Weequahic.html
Actually I didn't go to the library much, though I read 3-5 books a week. My father was into encouraging reading, so he picked up 5 books each week for me. I would now call a lot of these books high end adventure: Studs Lonigan, Captain Blood, Horatio Hornblower Series. Later he got me more serious stuff like Melville, Dos Passos, and Hemingway...but that was after we moved to Springfield.
Sometimes I would just take off and explore. Anything further away than three blocks in any direction was foreign territory. I remember going down Hawthorn Avenue below Bergen Street. It felt like another world. There were factories, and bars, and railroad tracks. I thought it was very cool and certainly a big adventure.
I still like to explore new territory by bike. You cover more territory than walking, but move at a pace slow enough to take in new sights, sounds, smells, worlds.
I learned to ride a bike on Hungtington Terrace on a old full sized coaster break, no gears women's bike. It was way too big for me, but somehow I managed.
I sometimes rode to the grocery store or the "variety" store on errands for my parents. My incentive was that I got to keep any pennies in the change and put them in a big display sized liquor bottle my father got through his liquor store in Passaic NJ. (When I finally cashed the bottle in, there was around $40.00 in pennies... a huge fortune.) The Variety store was on Osborne Terrace (one block down and two blocks over from our house.) and I think the grocery store was on Wolcott Terrace (three blocks up and two blocks over.) At the grocery store, I was fascinated by the gripping gadget the grocer could use to grab things off tall shelves. They also had a sliding ladder to get more stuff from upper shelves. I didn't have a basket or bike rack, so I'd wrap the bag around the handle bars and ride off holding on for dear life. It put the bike pretty off balance, but I don't remember dropping anything.
Another bike excursion was the to the local library. The branch on Osborne Terrace is still there: http://www.npl.org/Pages/Branches/Weequahic/Weequahic.html
Actually I didn't go to the library much, though I read 3-5 books a week. My father was into encouraging reading, so he picked up 5 books each week for me. I would now call a lot of these books high end adventure: Studs Lonigan, Captain Blood, Horatio Hornblower Series. Later he got me more serious stuff like Melville, Dos Passos, and Hemingway...but that was after we moved to Springfield.
Sometimes I would just take off and explore. Anything further away than three blocks in any direction was foreign territory. I remember going down Hawthorn Avenue below Bergen Street. It felt like another world. There were factories, and bars, and railroad tracks. I thought it was very cool and certainly a big adventure.
I still like to explore new territory by bike. You cover more territory than walking, but move at a pace slow enough to take in new sights, sounds, smells, worlds.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
West Bank Security Barrier Draws Artists and Advertisers – Forward.com
West Bank Security Barrier Draws Artists and Advertisers – Forward.com
Here are all the possibilities. Barrier/prison wall used for art. Wall used for restaurant menus. Art chopped out of wall and sold/. Critics who say prettying up the wall is wrong thing to do. Lots of work here for culture and art analysts, and political commentators.
\
I think it's neat.
Here are all the possibilities. Barrier/prison wall used for art. Wall used for restaurant menus. Art chopped out of wall and sold/. Critics who say prettying up the wall is wrong thing to do. Lots of work here for culture and art analysts, and political commentators.
\
I think it's neat.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Why vote for Ken Hechler
Click on title for campaign song.
Why should a 95 years old Democrat suddenly file his candidacy for the U.S. Senate in the August 28 primary?
Why should a 95 years old Democrat suddenly file his candidacy for the U.S. Senate in the August 28 primary?
- As a long-time opponent of Mountain-top removal, I want to give an opportunity to the thousands of opponents of mountain-top removal to register their opposition by casting their ballots for me.
- I believe it is a violation of our time honored system of free elections for one individual to anoint himself as an uncontested winner.
- The voters of West Virginia are entitled to register their choice as the legitimate nominee of the Democratic party for the November General Election.
Click this link for wikipedia link on Ken....an extraordinary politician: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ken_Hechler
Let's Tool and Die, 1950: Philip Levine
Shared with me on facebook by Chuck Levenstein. Click on the title to see this great poem.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Chocolate Lava
As with the accidental discovery of the vulcanization process, I wish to share a new accidentally discovered recipe. While making brownies (for a party that I had the wrong date for) I forgot to put the eggs into the box mix. Just mixed put the mix, water, and oil. It looked kinda a funny as the water kept boiling off the top. About 5/8 through I finally figured out the error, and thinking I'd throw good eggs after bad, mixed in the two beaten eggs and cooked. The eggs tried to congeal as quickly as the met the brownie mix. What turned out has been named (by friends) chocolate lava. It's kind of a crunchy candy. You need to mix the egg thoroughly as it congeals, and I know I didn't cook the full 40 minutes. More to follow as I perfect the timing. See's Candy, watch out!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Balkan Camp, August, 2010
Just came back from a week at Balkan Music and Dance camp in Monticello, NY (Catskills) at Iroquois Camp.
The core of the experience is overwhelming presence of live music. Greeted the first night by a friendly experienced camper I listened to a phenomenal Bulgarian band, XXXXXXX, They included a singer, accordion player, gaida (bagpipes) and kaval (flute.) Great energy. I really liked the hot leads taken by the gaida player. He and I exchanged friendly smiles all week though he spoke no English, and me no Bulgarian.
Right from the start I found the people welcoming. Plenty of interesting meeting, greeting, and talk at meals (we generally ate at outside picnic tables) Cabin six was coed and (except for Abby and me) all middle aged couples. It was a very friendly group.
The schedule called for 5 class slots. I ended up taking 4 and taking a nap or doing other things the last period of the afternoon. I took: Santouri (Greek Hammered Dulcimer) Accordion, Albanian Ensemble, andTupan (a field drum with a high sound on one side and a low on the other) Teachers were both great musicians and great teachers. Everyone was good.
The accordion class(about 17 of us) worked on the same music that was performed in the Albanian Ensemble. It was very high energy music and tough to learn by ear. The ensemble included the accordions, drummers, some brass, a few violins (including Abby) and a bass. It was a wall of sound....like being on a freight train that just kept running. Was I a passenger car, the caboose, or an engine? Each from time to time.
Tupan class required a new kind of left side right side independence that was challenging. As I got it, I felt somehow this was good for my brain...to stretch in this way. This class did its performance for a dance (no melody instruments) and I hear it was pretty powerful. It was a lot of un.
The Santouri class learned one song with (for beginners) a fair amount of left hand right hand complexity. I think the sound of 7 instruments was really great.
Each night there was a dance with a professional group (some assembled by faculty for the camp.) Besides the Bulgarians who played twice, high points were an Albanian folk/pop band with a charismatic singer (wife of the Albanian accordion teacher.) They live in Caldwell, NJ, but apparently she is very popular in Abanian.
A great Hungarian fiddler also pulled together a high energy group.
Each night after the dance ended at midnight, the camp opened up a Kafana (cafe) with drinks, grilled food, and volunteer groups. Abby and I played a klezmer set with a bass player I've known from Northampton and a cello player from Madison, WI. We sounded pretty good considering. I really enjoyed playing back and forth with the cello. Mostly I didn't stay up late enough to go to the Kafana.
There were a lot of other camp traditions. One afternoon was Martini's served before dinner. Another afternoon there was a soccer game between the brass ensemble and the Trans Carpathian ensemble. (brass won, despite Abby playing for Trans Carp)
One night they held a benefit auction. I offered a beginning or klezmer accordio lession. Two parents were bidding up to $100 for this, so I said I would do both. I had a 14 yr old girl and a 16. They both did very well, and it was great fun for me. I also gave two "lessons" to an accordion player on Klezmer style. She said the most useful thing I taught her was to breathe and visualize the music before she started.
After camp and before Abby flew out of JFK for Israel, she and I had an afternoon in NYC. We walked some of the southern part of Central Park (seemed like half of New York was out on a nice day), listened for a while to a latin music concert, and then ambled down Broadway for a while, the took the subway to Katz's. Ate pastrami with (of course) cole slaw and Russian dressing. Our transport from the hotel at JFK to Manhattan was on a bus and subway. We were the only caucasians on the bus....an interesting turn around for the environment in which I live. The subway at the LIRR in Jamaica was actually a Jamaican neighborhood (I think this is accidental but don't kow) was vibrant and we at a fast food meal of "patties."
Next day on way home I returned to Manhattan and stocked up on knishes at Yonah Shimmels. It was also a culture shock to turn on the radio and hear a yiddish music program.
These things can make me miss New York!
The core of the experience is overwhelming presence of live music. Greeted the first night by a friendly experienced camper I listened to a phenomenal Bulgarian band, XXXXXXX, They included a singer, accordion player, gaida (bagpipes) and kaval (flute.) Great energy. I really liked the hot leads taken by the gaida player. He and I exchanged friendly smiles all week though he spoke no English, and me no Bulgarian.
Right from the start I found the people welcoming. Plenty of interesting meeting, greeting, and talk at meals (we generally ate at outside picnic tables) Cabin six was coed and (except for Abby and me) all middle aged couples. It was a very friendly group.
The schedule called for 5 class slots. I ended up taking 4 and taking a nap or doing other things the last period of the afternoon. I took: Santouri (Greek Hammered Dulcimer) Accordion, Albanian Ensemble, andTupan (a field drum with a high sound on one side and a low on the other) Teachers were both great musicians and great teachers. Everyone was good.
The accordion class(about 17 of us) worked on the same music that was performed in the Albanian Ensemble. It was very high energy music and tough to learn by ear. The ensemble included the accordions, drummers, some brass, a few violins (including Abby) and a bass. It was a wall of sound....like being on a freight train that just kept running. Was I a passenger car, the caboose, or an engine? Each from time to time.
Tupan class required a new kind of left side right side independence that was challenging. As I got it, I felt somehow this was good for my brain...to stretch in this way. This class did its performance for a dance (no melody instruments) and I hear it was pretty powerful. It was a lot of un.
The Santouri class learned one song with (for beginners) a fair amount of left hand right hand complexity. I think the sound of 7 instruments was really great.
Each night there was a dance with a professional group (some assembled by faculty for the camp.) Besides the Bulgarians who played twice, high points were an Albanian folk/pop band with a charismatic singer (wife of the Albanian accordion teacher.) They live in Caldwell, NJ, but apparently she is very popular in Abanian.
A great Hungarian fiddler also pulled together a high energy group.
Each night after the dance ended at midnight, the camp opened up a Kafana (cafe) with drinks, grilled food, and volunteer groups. Abby and I played a klezmer set with a bass player I've known from Northampton and a cello player from Madison, WI. We sounded pretty good considering. I really enjoyed playing back and forth with the cello. Mostly I didn't stay up late enough to go to the Kafana.
There were a lot of other camp traditions. One afternoon was Martini's served before dinner. Another afternoon there was a soccer game between the brass ensemble and the Trans Carpathian ensemble. (brass won, despite Abby playing for Trans Carp)
One night they held a benefit auction. I offered a beginning or klezmer accordio lession. Two parents were bidding up to $100 for this, so I said I would do both. I had a 14 yr old girl and a 16. They both did very well, and it was great fun for me. I also gave two "lessons" to an accordion player on Klezmer style. She said the most useful thing I taught her was to breathe and visualize the music before she started.
After camp and before Abby flew out of JFK for Israel, she and I had an afternoon in NYC. We walked some of the southern part of Central Park (seemed like half of New York was out on a nice day), listened for a while to a latin music concert, and then ambled down Broadway for a while, the took the subway to Katz's. Ate pastrami with (of course) cole slaw and Russian dressing. Our transport from the hotel at JFK to Manhattan was on a bus and subway. We were the only caucasians on the bus....an interesting turn around for the environment in which I live. The subway at the LIRR in Jamaica was actually a Jamaican neighborhood (I think this is accidental but don't kow) was vibrant and we at a fast food meal of "patties."
Next day on way home I returned to Manhattan and stocked up on knishes at Yonah Shimmels. It was also a culture shock to turn on the radio and hear a yiddish music program.
These things can make me miss New York!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Republican on Republican
click on title for video.
Besides the duplicity of republicans illustrated in this video, it's sad how many republican policies Obama has supported.
Besides the duplicity of republicans illustrated in this video, it's sad how many republican policies Obama has supported.
Cal Judge Invalidates Prop 8
Judge Walker, Federal Court Judge of California struck down California's Prop 8 which banned gay marriages. For the first time gay marriages is to be considered a constitutional right. Of course there will be appeals, and looking at the current Supreme Court's recent decision is scary.
The heart of the matter is that the judge found no "rational basis" for singling out unions of gays for prohibition, and so he found Prop 8 to be discrimination. One of the interesting arguments in the decision notes that changes in relationships brought about by the women's movement, that is equality of roles between men and women in marriage, have lead to the opportunity to reach this decision. The judge specifically throws out "moral" arguments saying that the state needs on overriding interest in the ban (from the point of general society) to allow Prop 8 to stand.
Wow, that is great!
The heart of the matter is that the judge found no "rational basis" for singling out unions of gays for prohibition, and so he found Prop 8 to be discrimination. One of the interesting arguments in the decision notes that changes in relationships brought about by the women's movement, that is equality of roles between men and women in marriage, have lead to the opportunity to reach this decision. The judge specifically throws out "moral" arguments saying that the state needs on overriding interest in the ban (from the point of general society) to allow Prop 8 to stand.
Wow, that is great!
Morning Row
As I rowed in from Fortune to the Holiday Hill dock Monday morning, I stopped and just floated ...and floated. I texted the following to a friend who graciously called it a sonnet:
Quiet row in on light breeze
Mixed clouds
Duck and bird sounds
Just floating right now
Fish break the surface
Quiet row in on light breeze
Mixed clouds
Duck and bird sounds
Just floating right now
Fish break the surface
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Christ Lag
Cllick on "Christ Lag" to watch the video!
My roommates at Haverford introduced me to older vocal music in 1962. This opening of Christ Lag in Todesbanden is one of my favorite moments in vocal music....up there with the flower duo from Madama Butterfly. I prefer it a bit slower. However, listen as it slowly grows and interweaves. In fact my image is of a very fine Native American needle basket I just bought at Chesapeake Bay Fold Festival in St. Michaels.
My roommates at Haverford introduced me to older vocal music in 1962. This opening of Christ Lag in Todesbanden is one of my favorite moments in vocal music....up there with the flower duo from Madama Butterfly. I prefer it a bit slower. However, listen as it slowly grows and interweaves. In fact my image is of a very fine Native American needle basket I just bought at Chesapeake Bay Fold Festival in St. Michaels.
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