Wednesday, October 19, 2005

And now, a post for you, the inimitable S

On a beautiful day to play field hockey, best wishes to the Red Team. I wish I could be there. Hopefully M will be good luck (this time) instead of neutral luck (like last time). I have it on good authority that there will be NO large sign on the sidelines with your name or anyone else's; however, I believe there will come a day when you will cherish that sign.

Did you know about the new Lemony Snicket book? Do you care? It's the twelfth, so I think you should collect it and read it, and hang in there for the thirteenth. It's nice to have a complete set.

The CD we were listening to this morning is by Eric Clapton, of course, and called Me and Mr. Johnson. I love this one in a more scholarly and reserved way than From the Cradle, which is probably the best CD in the world. Or top three, anyway. I read somewhere that while writing and recording what would become Back Home, his newest CD, EC and his band launched into classic Robert Johnson songs when they were stuck, and those takes became this CD. The liner notes in Johnson, by EC himself, are a humble and reverent explanation of how much Robert Johnson's music has meant to him in his life - the root of his love of music, really - and the love, truth and sincerity he uses in recreating Johnson's master works is the reason that EC's blues catalog is the natural progression and cultivation of Johnson's original genius seed.
I decided to find out more about Robert Johnson, this man who has had such an influence on a man who has had such an influence on the world, and me. There are several fan and info sites about Robert Johnson, but the "Tribute Homepage" is a small and uncomplicated but interesting site that tells brief stories about his short life: he started recording songs at age 24 and was dead at 27. There are legends and whiffs of satan and mysticism. It's enriching and wonderful that individuals' lives can echo throughout the years, long after their physical presence is gone.

I told M about renaming the dog, and she laughed and said, "Can we really name our next dog Dave McCave?" and I realized that I have been reading and reciting that book for 20+ years, and never made the connection - all 23 Daves have the last name McCave! That Dr. Seuss was a COMIC GENIUS! Maybe we'll get two new dogs - one Rudy Two, and one Dave McCave. ("One Buffalo Bill, and one Biffalo Buff") Or we could copy those two you met in the park, and name them Rudy and Stella.

And often she wishes that, when they were born,
She had named one of them Bodkin Van Horn.
And one of them Hoos-Foos. And one of them Snimm.
And one of them Hot-Shot. And one Sunny Jim.
And one of them Shadrack. And one of them Blinkey.
And one of them Stuffy. And one of them Stinkey.
Another one Putt-Putt. Another one Moon Face.
Another one Marvin O'Gravel Balloon Face.
And one of them Ziggy. And one Soggy Muff.
One Buffalo Bill. And one Biffalo Buff.
And one of them Sneepy. And one Weepy Weed.
And one Paris Garters. And one Harris Tweed.
And one of them Sir Michael Carmichael Zutt.
And one of them Oliver Boliver Butt.
And one of them Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate . . . .

excerpted from "The Sneetches and other Stories" by Dr. Seuss

. . . And one of them Melanie, and one of them Stella . . .

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