Spooky-girls, Sea-monsters

Bloodroot by Adela Leibowitz

Some of these paintings are fun, some are so-so. I like the 06-07 series, specifically The Purple Room, which reminds me very much of the set design and costumes in Ingmar Bergman's Cries and Whispers.

Moose + Sprinklers = Glorious Awkward Mammal Fun!

Oodles of sprinkler fun:

To Know Thyself, Know Thy Family

I recently sent a letter to my maternal grandmother. My mother has always been vague and dodgy about her side of the family, and I've never had any quality sit-down time with any of her relatives, so I was curious. I received a phone call not three days thereafter and had a wonderful conversation with my grandmother. I learned that her grandparents were Lithuanian (paternal) and Ukranian (maternal) Jews who came to America in the late 1800s. I also learned that my grandmother divorced my grandfather, Jim, 11 years before he died at the age of 65 and 10 years before I was born. He was a heavy smoker and suffered from severe hypertension. But perhaps most interesting, I learned that my second cousin once removed (my great-great-grandmother is his great-grandmother) is Dr. Richard Alpert, better known as Baba Ram Dass. He was a psychology professor at Harvard University in the early 1960s and happened to work side-by-side with Timothy Leary. He also ended up writing a book called Be Here Now in 1971. Here's a clip of Ram Dass in 2005 (he had a stroke in 1997, hence his dramatic pauses):

Strangely, I actually picked up his book in the Strand several weeks ago before knowing any of this and I almost bought it. Life is pretty crazy.

Wedding Bells

This weekend I'll be attending my sister's wedding. Realistically, I'm not expecting antics on par with the epic Full House two-parter wherein Uncle Jesse's skydiving adventure lands him in the back of a tomato truck en route to the ceremony.... but you never know. I've been doing some research and am prepared for a variety of possible scenarios.

Such as a shark attack leading to newfound wealth and security for the bridal couple:


... or unexpected religious conflicts between families.


... or embarrassing relatives at the ceremony:


... or the groom having to prove himself to his new father in law by rescuing the bride from a pair of Mexican bandits:

As a member of the wedding party, I'm pulling for the last scenario. I can only assume that my position as a groomsman would make me a lock for inclusion in the groom's bandit hunting posse.

A Winning Mentality

Apropos of Father's Day:



One day I hope I get to say something as profoundly inspirational to my own children.

Making Headlines - Complete

The complete headlines from the "Ballads" section of Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music. Outside links to the recordings provided beneath the headline when available; all songs 1927-1932.

Henry Lee - Dick Justice
Fatal Flower Garden - Nelstone's Hawaiians

The House Carpenter - Clarence Ashley
Drunkard's Special - Coley Jones
Old Lady and the Devil - Bill and Belle Reed
The Butcher's Boy (The Railroad Boy) - Buell Kazee
The Wagoner's Lad - Buell Kazee
King Kong Kitchie Kitchie Ki-Me-O - Chubby Parker
Old Shoes and Leggins - Uncle Eck Dunford
Willie Moore - Burnett and Rutherford
A Lazy Farmer Boy - Buster Carter and Preston Young
Peg and Awl - Carolina Tar Heels
Ommie Wise - G.B. Grayson
Bandit Cole Younger - Edward L. Crain
My Name is John Johanna - Kelly Harrell
Charles Giteau - Kelly Harrell
John Hardy Was a Desperate Little Man - The Carter Family
Gonna Die With My Hammer in My Hands - Williamson Brothers and Curry
Stackalee - Frank Hutchison
White House Blues - Charlie Poole w/ The North Carolina Ramblers
Frankie - Mississippi John Hurt
When that Great Ship Went Down - William and Versey Smith
Engine One-Forty-Three - The Carter Family
Kassie Jones - Furry Lewis (link is to Lewis in '68)
Down on Penny's Farm - The Bently Boys
Mississippi Boweavil Blues - The Masked Marvel a.k.a Charley Patton
Got the Farmland Blues - The Carolina Tar Heels

I'm just as unsure on the the "how" end of it --

Topics of Discussion

I just spent an hour or so talking with my grandfather in the driveway. Topics of conversation included but were not limited to:


chiggers/ticks/mosquitoes and all manner of insidious pests; the automatic weapon he got to fire at a family reunion; FDR; a possible rabbit infestation under his shed; fond remembrances of a busty woman he saw jogging several decades ago; a 1939 Johnny Pesky rookie card; Libertarians; the elephant skin belt he wore sometime in the 1960s; dental hygienists; skipping his high school graduation to leave for Navy boot camp; rhubarb; researching local politicians on Google; the end of the world; knee injuries; turkeys; and a dog he used to own with a penchant for barking at people of Arab descent.

Quick DVD Review: Cassandra's Dream

Directed by Woody Allen
Starring Ewan McGregor, Colin Farrell, Sally Hawkins, Tom Wilkinson, Haley Atwell
2008

Conventional wisdom dictates that any film with an absurdly predictable plot, stilted dialog, and actors who seem to have been left to fend for themselves by a director more concerned with working ominous foreshadowing into every conversation than advising his characters is one of two things: a mediocre film or a Woody Allen film.

All of the usual criticisms apply to Allen's latest, Cassandra's Dream, but if you know Allen films, the usual criticisms can be disregarded. To call Cassandra's Dream a repetitive retread of recent films such as Lumet's Before the Devil Knows You're Dead or Allen's own Match Point or Crimes and Misdemeanors is entirely beside the point. Although there is nothing unpredictable or surprising in Allen's script, it is an excellent continuation of the wide-ranging moral discussion Allen has been having with his audience for the better part of four decades. This time around Allen asks what happens when ordinary men raised to believe in the power of family to protect and guide are asked to do something immoral by the people that taught them the meaning of morality.

Chances are if you've seen more than a handful of Allen's films you already know whether this is worth your time. Those who - like the aliens in Stardust Memories - prefer his "early funny films" will likely be turned off by the relentless pessimism and grim denouement of Cassandra's Dream but anyone who enjoys seeing late period Allen play God to his characters' Job will be just tickled.

Visit npr.org for preview clips and an audio interview with Allen

Pseudo-American

Today, I was fitted for a bridesmaid’s dress for one of my best friends’ wedding. The seamstress I went to was in Coolidge Corner in Brookline, MA, which has a very large Russian and Jewish population. My seamstress, who is known by the nickname “Poppy,” is a former fashion designer from Russia. Every review I saw about her online said that she is incredibly curt and could be likened to the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld; needless to say, I was incredibly excited to meet this woman.

I arrived in her small cramped store to be greeted by a heavily accented, “What you want?” I politely explained I had an appointment for a dress fitting and she told me to follow her upstairs and change into the gown. The upstairs was a maze of multicolored garments, most half-finished. I looked around for a changing room, but there wasn’t one. Instead, she had me change in front of her as came behind me with her cold fingers and a measuring tape to take my measurements, without informing me that she was going to do so. I put on the dress and she howls, “Who let you to order this size? This not your size! No dressmaker makes mistakes like this!” My dress is three to six inches too big everywhere and she is appalled. She pins the dress, has me strip in front of her and retakes my measurements (again, without asking). “You no trust the American clothes. Not European girl like you.”

This strikes me as odd - I don’t have an accent; I’m not wearing anything that identifies my nationality. I shake it off as crazy ramblings and ask when I can expect the dress and get a quote on the price. I left the store completely amused by the exchange and hop on the T to go to work. On the ride there, I thought about her European comment. She’s right; I am European. All four of my grandparents are from Ireland. There is not a single drop of my blood that has mixed with any American blood. I’ve never thought of myself as anything but American since my family has been here since the 1940s, but genetically, I’m as Irish as the Irish and European as the Europeans. The average height of a full-grown woman in Europe is over an inch shorter than a woman in the USA. So now, I’m not going to consider myself short – I am the exact average height of a European woman, 5’3”.

Thanks Poppy!