Today is the 200th anniversary of the first successful commercial steamboat use. In 1807, the North River Steamboat, built by Robert Fulton, began a regular passenger boat service between New York City and Albany, 150 miles away.
Here’s a somewhat bizarre 3-minute history lesson: Of course, Fulton, like many others was mocked, notes Ysabella in this 1937 classic tune: Here’s faux steamboat launch:
A music video by a band called Steamboat; the song is called Curtains Tale.
“Steamboat G’wine ‘Round the Bend”, a ‘visual’ music piece written by John Fahey, played by Josh Lane.
And finally, probably the obvious choice, Mickey Mouse in Steamboat Willie. I wonder if this 1928 piece is in the public domain yet. By the laws that were in effect at the time, or even a change or two later, it should be:
My father hated Elvis. He resented this white artist stealing/exploiting/ profiting from performing black music. (But then half of the musicians in the ’50s and ’60s from Pat Boone to Led Zeppelin “borrowed” from black music). So I never owned any Elvis music as a child or teenager.
Still, I did like some of his songs (Jailhouse Rock, Little Sister). So I watched the ’68 “comeback special” and became grudgingly, a mild fan.
When Elvis died, I thought, “Oh, that’s too bad.” The Elvis cult that’s developed since 1977 I view with fascination and utter bemusement.
I swiped the above from REMEMBERING ELVIS RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LIFE AND MUSIC OF THE KING ARE SWEETENED THROUGH THE AGES FOR LOYAL FANS by Mark McGuire, Times Union, The (Albany, NY), August 16, 1997. But since I was stealing what I wrote at the time, I guess it’s OK. I’m sure I wrote more, but it was edited down. I probably wrote about feeling as though I were sneaking behind my father’s back listening to the music, and how I never actually owned any Elvis until Elvis died.
I remember being on a city bus a year or two ago listening to some kids dissing Elvis as old news. I wanted to cut in and tell them that Elvis made $37 million the year before, but chose not to. In 2006, Elvis was only the Second to the Top-Earning Dead Celebrity with $42 million, after being #1 for 2001 through 2005. He was supplanted at the top by Kurt Cobain with $50 million.
Anyway, here are the lyrics to the appropriate Living Colour song and the video. *** Passing last month, Allan Pottasch, the creative guru of this:
Also passing last month, the jinglemeister in this video, Jerry Ringlien:
I don’t recall any recent movie that was as critically acclaimed as Once. Last I checked, it had a 97% positive rating on the movie site Rotten Tomatoes. It’s been billed, correctly, I think, as a musical for those who like music but hate musicals. I mean, there’s no Ewan McGregor from Moulin Rouge, merry murderers from Chicago or even Jennifer Hudson from Dreamgirls, all of which I’ve seen, by the way, breaking into song to advance the plot. All the music comes from their “real” situations, and works, perhaps, because musicians who could act were cast, rather than actors who could sing.
Carol and I got a babysitter and went to see Once last month at the Spectrum in Albany, when it was down to two shows a day, as it turns out the week before it closed. It’s the story of a Guy (Glen Hansard) in Ireland who is a busker with a guitar, an aspiring singer/songwriter and vacuum cleaner repairman who meets a Girl (Marketa Irglova), who’s also a singer/songwriter as well as a pianist. They end up making beautiful music together in an “organic” way. But it doesn’t play out exactly how you might think.
Incidentally, I capitalized Guy and Girl, because that’s how the characters are billed; likewise Guy’s Dad (Bill Hodnett) and Girl’s Mother (Danuse Ktrestova).
I really don’t know how to describe this any further without giving out key plot points, except to say that we too were charmed and captivated by Once. It has a running time of 85 minutes, and it’s rated R, almost certainly for the substantial use of the F-word. In fact, much of the scene before the credits even pop up is laced with that word; it lessens considerably after that, but you may want to watch this with other adults. *** Gay Prof says something snarky about the impeding departure of Karl Rove so I don’t have to.
A couple months ago, I helped someone move a harpsichord, a secretary (the furniture variety), and a couple other pieces. No big whoop; I’ve helped, conservatively, in over 100 moves, excluding the 30 or so moves of mine. But he was so appreciative that he sent me a card thanking me.
Let’s deal with mine first. “You say 30 moves, really?” Surely, I exaggerate; I do not. And all but one was since I was 18. But I’m getting more settled: 7 years in my current place. Before that 1 year in the house Carol had bought before we met, 4.5 years in an apartment. Before that, mucho moves for all sorts of reasons. Like this guy.
And like many folks, I hate moving my own stuff, for all sorts of psychological reasons that is why I rather use Keep On Moving Company to help out.
Moving other people’s stuff, however, I love. I love it for a number of reasons:
1) It’s good exercise
2) It becomes an interesting anthropological study
3) People are grateful that you’re moving their stuff
4) It’s not MY stuff
I’ve helped one guy move six times, so often that my accomplices, Allie and Tom, and I called ourselves RAT Moving (or ART Moving, or TAR Moving). I’ve helped people I’ve known two weeks.
But I have rules for moving other people’s stuff, having done so many times:
1) Pick a time. Stick to the time. I want to get there, do it, and leave.
2) The movee (or his/her designee) must be in charge of the move, especially the unloading. I don’t care if the movee picks up a single thing as long as that person can say: what goes and what stays when we’re in the old place; and where the things go when we’re in the new place. One good friend of mine was so distraught about her move, it fell upon a committee of the movers to decide what to do. Yuck.
3) Have extra boxes. Inevitably, the movee thinks he/she is done packing, but forgot the stuff behind a piece of furniture or in a closet or in the refrigerator. Seldom have I been in a situation with too many boxes.
4) Don’t pack your books, records and other dense items in large boxes. I may be, as one friend calls her roving moving crew, of “strong backs and small minds”, but we’re not looking to end up on the disabled list while doing one a favor.
5) Highly recommended: extra packing tape, and markers for labeling boxes (oh, PLEASE, label your boxes so that we don’t have to open the boxes and decide what’s in them). Bungee ropes can be useful. Once, I helped carry a sofa down a flight of stairs. It turned out to be a sleeper sofa, and the sleeper sofa came out. I kicked the sleeper part back into position, on my back, on the stairwell, and tied the sleeper part with my belt.
6) If possible, contact the authorities about blocking off the moving spaces so we can load and unload at the actual addresses rather than from a half a block away.
1. If there were no blogs, what would you be doing right now?
I found this question utterly fascinating, maybe because it hit a nerve. Before I was blogging, I was kvetching about the fact that I wasn’t writing or expressing my opinions and that I was missing out on recording stuff about Lydia, which, I knew, I would someday forget. So, if I weren’t blogging, I would be kvetching about the fact that I wasn’t writing or expressing my opinions… On the other hand, I might be caught up on watching TV taped programs, and I’d certainly be more up-to-date with my weekly periodicals reading.
Incidentally, I cleaned up my blogroll this weekend, moving some links to my work blog, deleting a couple, and adding a couple, such as Anthony Velez’s The Dark Glass, mostly because I was tired of having to go there via Lefty. I’ve put a few folks under the uninterestingly-titled Other Interesting Folks. If you have suggestions for adds, or if you want to be added, moved, or deleted from the blogroll, you know where to find me.
2. If you had to spend one year living alone in a remote cabin, what would you spend your time doing?
OK, this depends heavily on what technologies are available. Will I have a computer? Internet connectivity? Assuming that, I would be catching up on reading those aforementioned magazines, then tackle the books. Alternating with writing two books, one a roman a clef about churches, choirs and ministers; choir people can be really strange folks. The other would be a history of the first 10 years of FantaCo.
Of course, listening to music and watching movies and stuff on DVD.
Now, if we’re talking really rustic, with no electricity, still doing the reading, maybe writing by hand. And slowly going: Stark. Raving. Bonkers.
3. If you could go back in time, what one piece advice would you give yourself?
Depends on the time frame: Me at 16: you’re working in a library. You LIKE working in a library. Consider this as a career. You’re not cut out to be a lawyer. Me at 24: no, you won’t be celibate forever. There are plenty of others.
4. “If you really knew me you would know that…”
You should run away as quickly as possible. ***
You Are 24% Weirdo
You’re a little weird, but you’d be even weirder if you didn’t have a few quirks. You are just strange enough to know it, but nobody else seems to notice your weirdness. That’s because, deep down, everyone is a little freaky!
*** Merv Griffin died yesterday of prostate cancer, the disease that, as it happened, killed my father. Not only was Merv a popular talk show host, but he created both Wheel of Fortune and JEOPARDY! Most importantly, he wrote the JEOPARDY! theme:
*** ADD’s dreams, one of which features, of all people, me. BTW, the Daredevil Chronicles had the greater print run, but that’ll all become clear later this month. ROG
