Wednesday, August 31, 2011

MPF

Sam Sifton has this fascinating way of spiking his positive restaurant reviews with phrases that might sound unappetizing out of context - or in context! In the New York Times today, he writes about a Chinese place where you can get a "huge, deflated football" and some "mysterious pig fragments." He loves those things! And somehow he makes you want to love them too. He makes you want to say, "Honey, let's go out tonight and treat ourselves to some mysterious pig fragments." Sam Sifton!

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Gummy Humps

Remember when I used to write fiction? That was stupid! But terrible old habits die hard. I have a short story in the new Oxford American, that's right, along with my regular column. As I am sure you will be thrilled to hear, my column features a reference to character actor Vito Scotti (pictured). I hear the sounds of millions running to their local newsstands. My short story, on the other hand, is called "Ghost College." Does it live up to its title? Of course not! That's what "writers" do. We sucker you in with a title and at the end you're all, "What was THAT all about?" And we are like, "Too late, you already read it!" And we laugh and laugh. On the plus side, the issue features Michael Martone, Steve Almond, James Whorton, Jr., and lots of other people who are truly good at what they do. As always, it's action-packed! Daredevil John T. Edge eats a school lunch. But at least we are lucky enough to get this sentence out of his loathsome experience: "The rice arrived in gummy humps." I've been saying that out loud a lot. It sounds like part of an Edward Lear poem! For some reason (well, the reasons are probably obvious) it makes me think of a sentence from A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN: "And a fellow had once seen a big rat jump plop into the scum." (Hey, my new story has the word "plop" in it. I'm just like James Joyce!) Gee, speaking of ghosts, I have really been falling down on the job of telling you about what's in the New York Times every day. A couple of weeks ago (?) there was an op-ed with a misty blue ghost in it. Let me look that up to make sure I'm not crazy. Yes: "the mist came down the hall, paused to consider him, and then curled into the room where my mother lay dreaming." That's an op-ed! At a later date, the New York Times gossip columnist was hanging out with the cast of the reality show GHOST HUNTERS, which just seems sad and forlorn somehow, especially for the cast of GHOST HUNTERS. And, on a somewhat unrelated subject, there was an obituary for "a distinguished Abstract Expressionist artist who — after what he described as a chance sighting of something flat, silver, airborne and unfathomable — became the father of the alien-abduction movement."

Monday, August 29, 2011

Ammonia Coke

There was a movie on this morning with that Katherine Heigl, about whom I know nothing except that everybody hates her. Why? I don't know! It's none of my beeswax! But maybe some of that popular hate rubbed off on me because I was ready to change the channel immediately... BUT! Suddenly I saw a street corner from our old neighborhood in Atlanta! I saw the old drugstore where I used to go when I first moved there. I was hit by a wave of nostalgia with which I now hope to bore you. You could sit with a sixty cent cup of coffee all day. The old woman behind the lunch counter cooked delicious soup at home every night and brought it in every morning. With maudlin veracity I recall her Brunswick stew. Strange things on the menu (fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches - Elvis's favorite), and once I saw a man order an "ammonia Coke." I DO NOT ENDORSE THE DRINKING OF AMMONIA COKES! IT MIGHT KILL YOU! I am just telling you what I saw. After strenuous debate (it was on the menu but no one had ever requested this old drugstore fare in memory; as I recall, the waitress was about to go away to art school at Parsons and probably didn't want to kill anybody and ruin her future) they used no more than a few drops of ammonia, and I am almost certain it is not the same deadly poisonous ammonia of which you are thinking. IN ANY CASE, DON'T DO IT! That place was later transformed into a fancy joint (to my dismay - no more sixty cent bottomless coffee) where (as recorded here) I once had to eat while some people were wildly making out on the same bench where I was sitting. The old woman who made the soup would have fainted. But I guess that is how the fancy people do it in our strange new modern world where old ladies and drugstores are no longer welcome! In the movie, it is still a fancy joint and apparently Katherine Heigl owns it. But I had to go to class, which was the best thing for all of us, so I don't really know. (When I went there, the drugstore was called Fleeman's. This photo is from even earlier. Who cares?)

Most Melodious Twang

It was with a heavy heart today that I returned my final edition of John Aubrey's BRIEF LIVES to the library. Given his problem with finishing anything (the BRIEF LIVES are odds and ends), I didn't hold out much hope of finding anything else by Mr. Aubrey. But guess what? They had a copy of his MISCELLANIES! Here is where I opened the book at random: "Anno 1670, not far from Cyrencester, was an Apparition: Being demanded, whether a good Spirit, or a bad? returned no answer, but disappeared with a curious Perfume and most melodious Twang. Mr. W. Lilly believes it was a Fairie."

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Oatmeal Tips

Today's "Oatmeal Tip" comes from Elizabeth: "I got 'Crystal Wedding Oats' b/c the container was pretty and there was a tumbler inside! like a pink (faux depression glass) plastic tumbler. adult cereal has prizes in new orleans! it's magic." So if that's what you want in your oatmeal, that is the brand of oatmeal to get. Thanks for the tip, Elizabeth! And good night from all of us here at "Oatmeal Tips."

Skunk Eye

From Lee Durkee: "Saw Dr. Dee's famous portrait at the Ashmolean yesterday. He gives posterity the skunk eye."

Saturday, August 27, 2011

A Big Fan of Desolation

Sam Shepard's description (in DAY OUT OF DAYS) of the character actor Andy Devine tickles me. Here's just a little of it: "I don't know if the slouch was put on or if it was an actual manifestation of his character but he seemed to enjoy being a sloppy guy... He had a high squeaky voice that my uncle Buzz told me was the result of Andy's having accidentally swallowed a silver whistle when he was a kid. I always believed that story. Why not?" When Barry B. and I were making our kids' show, we went to the Museum of Broadcasting in New York to watch some really early examples of the genre. One of them starred Andy Devine. His sidekick was a gruff, demonic figure named Froggy the Gremlin (pictured). Maybe we picked the wrong episode, but it seemed terrifying. And that reminds me of when Mr. Ward and I went to the same museum and watched a failed sitcom pilot about Alan Alda adopting an invisible baby. We didn't have a great reason for that. Oh! And on the next page of Sam Shepard, there's pie. I told you every time pie appeared in ON THE ROAD, so why not DAY OUT OF DAYS, which refers explicitly to the former book? Shepard's narrator wants some butterscotch pie, but the restaurant cook "says the pies just came out of the oven and they're too hot to cut... I can see them steaming behind him on a Formica shelf; lined up like little locomotives - puffing away." The narrator says he'll walk around town while the pies cool. The cook "says there are no sights; there is no town. But I tell him I'm a big fan of desolation."

The Saucy New Way to Feed Your Cat

What's so special about Karen, you ask? According to her theme song, "She sets her hair with great precision/ It's her favorite indoor sport/ By the light of television/ She can even write a book report." You will notice that KAREN is sponsored by "Purina Cat Dinners - the saucy new way to feed your cat." But the cat looks off somehow - almost... preserved.

Oh YouTube

Youtube! You have everything. I have never heard of the TV show KAREN, and I have heard of every TV show. "Click" here for the theme song to KAREN, performed by The Beach Boys.

"Blog"trospective 9: Books With Owls In Them

I'm rereading DAY OUT OF DAYS by Sam Shepard because I'm "teaching" it this semester - happy to be reminded there is an owl in it, once again confirming my famous "Owl Theory of Literature." Writes Shepard, "A barn owl looked straight down at me from the rafters with his big white bib." The owl turns out to be "a dummy, planted to scare away mice and varmints," but I say it counts, especially as Shepard includes some general commentary on actual owls: "A Tibetan monk once told me that the owl was a portent of death but I've never felt that way about owls." It seems to me that it is time for "Books With Owls In Them" to become the subject of one of our famed "blog"trospectives, which, when completed, will represent all the learning of humankind. Previous subjects include TOM FRANKLIN, PHIL OPPENHEIM, MOVIES, THE MOON, SANDWICHES, THE UNITED STATES, THE BEACH BOYS, and ARNOLD STANG. And now we invite you to enjoy BOOKS WITH OWLS IN THEM: a by Andy Warhol---ABOUT THREE BRICKS SHY OF A LOAD by Roy Blount Jr.---THE ACCIDENTAL LIFE by Terry McDonell---THE ACCURSED by Joyce Carol Oates---ADVENTURE TIME: THE ART OF OOO by Chris McDonnell---AGAINST NATURE by Joris-Karl Huysmans---AGUA VIVA by Clarice Lispector---ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND by Lewis Carroll---ALPHABET JUICE by Roy Blount Jr.---ALWAYS HAPPY HOUR by Mary Miller---AMERICAN FANTASTIC TALES: 1940s TO NOW---THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY by Robert Burton---AND WHEN SHE WAS GOOD by Laura Lippman---THE ANDY WARHOL DIARIES---APOSTLE by Tom Bissell---ARTHURIAN ROMANCES by Chretien de Troyes---AT SWIM-TWO-BIRDS by Flann O'Brien---BAG OF BONES by Stephen King---THE BEHAVIOR GUIDE TO AFRICAN MAMMALS: INCLUDING HOOFED MAMMALS, CARNIVORES, PRIMATES by Richard Despard Estes---BELOVED by Toni Morrison---BEST POEMS by Stevie Smith---BEYOND EXPLANATION? REMARKABLE ACCOUNTS ABOUT CELEBRITIES WHO HAVE WITNESSED THE SUPERNATURAL! by Jenny Randles---THE BIBLE---BIG SUR by Jack Kerouac---THE BLACK COUNTRY by Alex Grecian---THE BLIND OWL by Sadegh Hedayat---THE BOOK OF LEGENDARY LANDS by Umberto Eco---THE BOOK OF MAGIC, edited by Brian Copenhaver---BOY WITH LOADED GUN by Lewis Nordan---THE BOYS by Ron Howard and Clint Howard---BRICKTOP by Bricktop, with James Haskins---BRIGHT ORANGE FOR THE SHROUD by John D. MacDonald---A BRIGHT RAY OF DARKNESS by Ethan Hawke---BRIGHTON ROCK by Graham Greene---CAJUN AND CREOLE FOLKTALES: THE FRENCH ORAL TRADITION OF SOUTH LOUISIANA collected and annotated by Barry Jean Ancelet---THE CANTOS by Ezra Pound---CARIBOU TRAVELER by Harold McCracken---CELEBRITY CHEKHOV by Ben Greenman---CIGARETTES by Harry Mathews---CITRUS COUNTY by John Brandon---COMING INTO THE COUNTRY by John McPhee---THE COMPLETE POEMS OF EMILY DICKINSON---THE CONFERENCE OF THE BIRDS by Attar---COUNT MAGNUS AND OTHER GHOST STORIES by M.R. James---COUNTRY DARK by Chris Offutt---COUNTRY WISDOM & LORE---A COUPLE OF COMEDIANS by Don Carpenter---THE CRY OF THE OWL by Patricia Highsmith---THE DAIN CURSE by Dashiell Hammett---DARE ME by Megan Abbott---DAREDEVIL by Stan Lee, Bill Everett and Jack Kirby---DARKER THAN AMBER by John D. MacDonald---DAY OUT OF DAYS by Sam Shepard---DEAR WEATHER GHOST by Melissa Ginsburg---DEATH ON THE INSTALLMENT PLAN by Celine---THE DEMON by Jack Kirby---THE DHARMA BUMS by Jack Kerouac---DHARMA-SHASTRA by Manu---DIARY OF A MAD PLAYWRIGHT by James Kirkwood---DICTIONARY OF ANCIENT DEITIES by Patricia Turner and Charles Russell Coulter---THE DICTIONARY OF SYMBOLS by Hans Biedermann---THE DISASTER ARTIST by Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell---DOCTOR FAUSTUS by Thomas Mann---DR. SAX by Jack Kerouac---DOCTOR SLEEP by Stephen King---THE DOG OF THE SOUTH by Charles Portis---DOLCE VITA CONFIDENTIAL by Shawn Levy---DRACULA by Bram Stoker---DREAM CABINET by Ann Fisher-Wirth---DRESS HER IN INDIGO by John D. MacDonald---DUCKS, NEWBURYPORT by Lucy Ellmann---THE DUD AVOCADO by Elaine Dundy---DUNE by Frank Herbert---DUNGEON MASTER: BOOK ONE by Joe Daly---THE DYING ANIMAL by Philip Roth---THE DYING GRASS by William T. Vollmann---EARLY HAVOC by June Havoc---ELVIS AND GLADYS by Elaine Dundy---THE EPODES by Horace---ESCAPE VELOCITY: A CHARLES PORTIS MISCELLANY---ETHEL MERMAN by Brian Kellow---FABLES FOR OUR TIME by James Thurber---THE FAEIRE QUEENE by Edmund Spenser---FAIRY LAMPS: EVENING'S GLOW OF YESTERYEAR by Amelia E. MacSwiggan---FATALE by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips---FEBRUARY HOUSE by Sherill Tippins---THE FINAL CLUB by Geoffrey Wolff---FINAL CUT by Steven Bach---FINNEGANS WAKE by James Joyce---THE FIRST FOLIO of William Shakespeare---FLAUBERT'S PARROT by Julian Barnes---FLYING SHOES by Lisa Howorth---FOR A LITTLE WHILE by Rick Bass---FORGIVE US OUR DIGRESSIONS by Jim and Henny Backus---FRANK: THE VOICE by James Kaplan---FRIDAYS AT ENRICO'S by Don Carpenter (finished by Jonathan Lethem)---FUNNY MAN by Patrick McGilligan---GARGANTUA AND PANTAGRUEL by Francois Rabelais---GAZETTEER OF BRITISH GHOSTS by Peter Underwood---GHOST STORY by Peter Straub---GHOSTS by Cesar Aira---GIANT: THE MAKING OF A LEGENDARY AMERICAN FILM by Don Graham---THE GLASS HARMONICA by Barbara Ninde Byfield---THE GO-BETWEEN by L.P. Hartley---GOLDELINE by Jimmy Cajoleas---GONE WITH THE MIND by Mark Leyner---GRAVESEND by William Boyle---GRAVITY'S RAINBOW by Thomas Pynchon---GREAT DREAM OF HEAVEN by Sam Shepard---THE GREAT HUNT by Robert Jordan---GREEN'S DICTIONARY OF SLANG---GRINGOS by Charles Portis---HAMLET by William Shakespeare---HARLOT'S GHOST by Norman Mailer---THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE by Shirley Jackson---THE HINDUS: AN ALTERNATIVE HISTORY by Wendy Doniger---HISTORY, MYTHS, AND SACRED FORMULAS OF THE CHEROKEES by James Mooney---HOLLYWOOD: THE ORAL HISTORY edited by Jeanine Basinger and Sam Wasson---HOPE: ENTERTAINER OF THE CENTURY by Richard Zoglin---THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR by Anne Rivers Siddons---THE HOUSE ON THE STRAND by Daphne Du Maurier---HOW TO BUILD A GIRL by Caitlin Moran---HOWARD HUGHES: HIS LIFE AND MADNESS by Donald L. Barlett and James B. Steele---HUNGER by Knut Hamsun---HUSH HUSH by Laura Lippman---I OWE RUSSIA $1200 by Bob Hope---IF IT BLEEDS by Stephen King---ILLUSTRATED ANTHOLOGY OF SORCERY, MAGIC AND ALCHEMY by Emile Grillot de Givry---IN A GLASS DARKLY by Sheridan Le Fanu---IN MY OWN FASHION by Oleg Cassini---IN THE LAND OF TIME by Lord Dunsany---INDIGNATION by Philip Roth---THE INVISIBLES by Grant Morrison---IVORY SHOALS by John Brandon---J R by William Gaddis---JANE EYRE by Charlotte Bronte---JOHN AUBREY: MY OWN LIFE by Ruth Scurr---JULIUS CAESAR by William Shakespeare---JUNIOR MISS by Sally Benson---KALILA WA-DIMNA---KING LEAR by William Shakespeare---THE KINGDOM OF SPEECH by Tom Wolfe---LABRAVA by Elmore Leonard---LAKOTA AMERICA by Pekka HƤmƤlƤinen---THE LEOPARD by Giuseppe di Lampedusa---LETTERS FROM AN ACTOR by William Redfield---LIBRA by Don DeLillo---THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF ALEXANDER WILSON---THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON by James Boswell---LIFE'S WORK by David Milch---LINCOLN IN THE BARDO by George Saunders---LITTLE DORRIT by Charles Dickens---LITTLE SISTER DEATH by William Gay---LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS by William Godwin---LO! by Charles Fort---THE LORE AND LANGUAGE OF SCHOOLCHILDREN by Iona and Peter Opie---LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST by William Shakespeare---LULU IN HOLLYWOOD by Louise Brooks---LUSH LIFE: A BIOGRAPHY OF BILLY STRAYHORN by David Hajdu---MACBETH by William Shakespeare---THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN by Thomas Mann---MAGPIE MURDERS by Anthony Horowitz---THE MAN WHO COULD CALL DOWN OWLS by Eve Bunting---A MANUAL FOR CLEANING WOMEN by Lucia Berlin---MARK TWAIN'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY 1910-2010 by Michael Kupperman---MASTERS OF ATLANTIS by Charles Portis---MCSWEENEY'S #36---THE MESSENGERS: OWLS, SYNCHRONICITY AND THE UFO ABDUCTEE by Mike Clelland---MESSIAEN by Peter Hill and Nigel Simeone---METAMORPHOSES by Ovid---A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by William Shakespeare---A MIRACLE OF CATFISH by Larry Brown---MISCELLANIES by John Aubrey---MOONFLOWER MURDERS by Anthony Horowitz---THE MOST DANGEROUS THING by Laura Lippman---THE MOVIE MUSICAL! by Jeanine Basinger---MUSIC OF THE SWAMP by Lewis Nordan---MY ANTONIA by Willa Cather---MY FATHER, THE PORNOGRAPHER by Chris Offutt----MY LUCKY STARS by Shirley MacLaine---MY NAME IS BARBRA by Barbra Streisand---MY SIDE by Ruth Gordon---MY WICKED, WICKED WAYS by Errol Flynn---THE NAKED AND THE DEAD by Norman Mailer---THE NAME OF THE GAME IS DEATH by Dan J. Marlowe---NANCY: A COMIC COLLECTION by Olivia Jaimes---NATIVE AMERICAN FOOD PLANTS: AN ETHNOBOTANICAL DICTIONARY by Daniel E. Moerman---NAVAHO WITCHCRAFT by Clyde Kluckhohn---NIGHT SIDE OF THE RIVER by Jeanette Winterson---NIGHTMARE IN PINK by John D. MacDonald---NO HEROES by Chris Offutt---NORMAN MAILER: A DOUBLE LIFE by J. Michael Lennon---NORWOOD by Charles Portis---NUTSHELL by Ian McEwan---OF A FIRE ON THE MOON by Norman Mailer---OMINOUS WHOOSH by John Thorne---ON RARE BIRDS by Anita Albus---ON THE ROAD by Jack Kerouac---THE ONE INSIDE by Sam Shepard---ORSON WELLES, VOLUME 1: THE ROAD TO XANADU by Simon Callow---OSCAR WILDE by Richard Ellmann---THE OTHER by Thomas Tryon---OUR STRANGERS by Lydia Davis---OUT OF THE WOODS by Chris Offutt---OWLS IN FOLKLORE AND NATURAL HISTORY by Virginia C. Holmgren---A PARISIAN AFFAIR AND OTHER STORIES by Guy de Maupassant---THE PATCHWORK GIRL OF OZ by L. Frank Baum---THE PERSONAL MEMOIRS OF ULYSSES S. GRANT---THE PICKWICK PAPERS by Charles Dickens---PINOCCHIO by Carlo Collodi---THE QUICK by Lauren Owen---RAGE FOR FAME: THE ASCENT OF CLARE BOOTHE LUCE by Sylvia Jukes Morris---RAMAYANA, adapted by William Buck---REBELLION by Peter Ackroyd---THE REDEEMERS by Ace Atkins---REPROBATES: THE CAVALIERS OF THE ENGLISH CIVIL WAR by John Stubbs---RICHARD II by William Shakespeare---RIDES OF THE MIDWAY by Lee Durkee---ROTH UNBOUND by Claudia Roth Pierpont---RUM PUNCH by Elmore Leonard---'SALEM'S LOT by Stephen King---THE SCARLET RUSE by John D. MacDonald---SELECTED CRONICAS by Clarice Lispector---SELECTED POEMS by Christopher Smart---SELECTED PROSE AND DRAMATIC WORK by John Lyly---SHADOW BOX by George Plimpton---SHAKESPEARE by Mark Van Doren---SHAKESPEARE: MAN AND ARTIST by Edgar I. Fripp---SHIRLEY JACKSON: A RATHER HAUNTED LIFE by Ruth Franklin---SHOOT THE MOONLIGHT OUT by William Boyle---SHOOTING MIDNIGHT COWBOY by Glenn Frankel---SHY by Mary Rodgers---THE SINNERS by Ace Atkins---640 OF MY COLLECTIONS by Dr. Harold Wallman---SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO LIE by Leslie Brody---THE SONG OF THE LARK by Willa Cather---SOUR BLUEBERRIES---SOUTHERN LADY CODE by Helen Ellis---SPACE ODYSSEY by Michael Benson---SPY OF THE FIRST PERSON by Sam Shepard---STANLEY KUBRICK: A BIOGRAPHY by Vincent LoBrutto---THE SUMMER BOOK by Tove Jansson---SWAMP THING by Alan Moore---TALES DESIGNED TO THRIZZLE, VOL. 1 by Michael Kupperman---THE TEMPEST by William Shakespeare---A TERRIBLE LIAR by Hume Cronyn---THAT IS ALL by John Hodgman---THE THREE MUSKETEERS by Alexandre Dumas---TILL EULENSPIEGEL---TINKER, TAILOR, SOLDIER, SPY by John le Carre---TOM STOPPARD: A LIFE by Hermione Lee---TREASURE ISLAND by Robert Louis Stevenson---TRUE GRIT by Charles Portis---THE TURQUOISE LAMENT by John D. MacDonald---TWELFTH NIGHT by William Shakespeare---THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN by John Fletcher and William Shakespeare---ULYSSES by James Joyce---UNCLE SILAS by Sheridan Le Fanu---THE UNFORTUNATE TRAVELLER AND OTHER WORKS by Thomas Nashe---THE UNSPEAKABLE CONFESSIONS OF SALVADOR DALI---VISIONS OF GERARD by Jack Kerouac---A VISIT FROM THE GOON SQUAD by Jennifer Egan---VULGAR ERRORS by Sir Thomas Browne---THE VULGAR TONGUE: GREEN'S HISTORY OF SLANG by Jonathon Green---WALT DISNEY: THE TRIUMPH OF THE AMERICAN IMAGINATION by Neal Gabler---WARHOL by Blake Gopnik---THE WHITE PEOPLE AND OTHER WEIRD STORIES by Arthur Machen*---THE WILD BUNCH by W.K. Stratton---WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: A COMPACT DOCUMENTARY LIFE by S. Schoenbaum---WISE BLOOD by Flannery O'Connor---THE WOMAN WARRIOR by Maxine Hong Kingston---THE WONDERFUL YEAR by Thomas Dekker---THE YEAR OF LEAR by James Shapiro---YEVONDE: LIFE AND COLOUR by Clare Freestone---YOU WILL KNOW ME by Megan Abbott---YOUR BODY IS CHANGING. And that is every book with an owl in it.

McNeil Still Real

Lee Durkee is the latest to doubt McNeil's existence. Lee emailed me about John Lyly - yes he did! - and I wrote back how much my friend McNeil likes Lyly. Lee replied, "I thought McNeil was fictional, a second self of yours." (The accompanying photo is not McNeil. OR IS IT? No, it seems to be from a 60s production of Lyly's ENDYMION.) This "link," however, contains irrefutable photographic evidence of McNeil, though this one is richer in atmospheric detail, including many minor personal disagreements I likely would not have with myself. Let me add the fact that McNeil looks exactly like boxing trainer Freddie Roach. Would I make that up?

Friday, August 26, 2011

Sock Manufacture in Old England

... is, yes, really what this "post" is actually all about. John Aubrey writes of William Lee, "a poor Curate" who "was the first Inventor of the Weaving of Stockings by an Engine of his contrivance... He went into France, and dyed there before his Loome was made there." Lee puts Aubrey in mind of Christopher Wren, who invented "a way to weave seven pair or nine pair of stockings at once... He demanded four hundred pounds for his Invention: but the weavers refused it, because they were poor: and besides, they sayd, it would spoil their Trade... Sir Christopher was so noble, seeing they would not adventure so much money, He breakes the Modell of the Engine all to pieces, before their faces." The footnote (technically headnote) in the 1949 edition adds that Queen Elizabeth came to watch William Lee make stockings. "But she was disappointed by the coarseness of his work." He improved it, and brought her some nice silk stockings, but she "now feared that the invention would prejudice hand-knitters." Later, King James felt the same way. So finally Lee went (as Aubrey mentions) to France, where he had been "promised great rewards" by the king. But the king was assassinated! And so, proclaims the footnote, William Lee "died of grief" (!). And all because of his sock-making machine.

All Day

I was watching a little bit of TAXI DRIVER on IFC. At a dramatic moment they cut to a car wax commercial containing this line: "We let birds poop on it all day!"

Good Whistling!

Remember how I told you Kelly Hogan has one of those tumblrs? I guess yesterday she re-"posted" my "post" about the elusive Charles Portis/Roger Miller article and then - "literally 20 seconds later," she assures me - one of her fans sent her a pdf of the whole thing! Such is the power of Hogan. (That's not the way she put it! She's no braggart. She didn't even use the word "fan," though that is how the guy identified himself.) So now I will be able to peruse the article at my leisure and glean for you all the nuggets for which you could ever wish. Here is Kelly's "post" of my "post," and we see once again that the "internet" is the snake that devours itself. Yum yum! Speaking of snakes, the last time I mentioned vipers I should have included a "link" to this song about another kind of viper. That would have been clever. And speaking of gleaning nuggets, here's some more from John Aubrey's BRIEF LIVES: A knight once challenged Sir William Petty to a duel. "Sir William is extremely short sighted, and being the challengee it belonged to him to nominate the place and weapon. He nominates, for the place, a darke Cellar, and the weapon to be a great Carpenter's Axe. This turned the knight's challenge into Ridicule, and so it came to naught... Sir William Petty had a boy that whistled incomparably well. He after wayted on a Lady, a widowe, of good fortune. Every night this boy was to whistle his Lady asleepe. At last shee could hold out no longer, but bids her chamber-mayd withdrawe: bids him come to bed, setts him to worke, and marries him the next day. This is certyn true." See, I was going to end this "post" with a youtube video of "England Swings" by Roger Miller, because John Aubrey's England certainly "swings" - ha ha! - plus there is lots of whistling in that song, golly I impress myself, what a double whammy! But instead I found this video ("click" here) of Roger Miller singing with Dean Martin.

Far Out

I was right: the library had that Roger Miller article by Charles Portis. In fact, they seem to have every SATURDAY EVENING POST from 1911 to 1978, the original magazines, bound together several to a volume. But they wouldn't let me check out the 1966 collection containing the Charles Portis article. So I had to rush through it in the minutes before class. I managed to scribble down a few random quotations. The article isn't really about Roger Miller. It's about the city of Nashville as a center of country music production, but Miller is used throughout as a contrast to the more hidebound country music establishment. "I don't know what I am," he says. And then he says, "Scooby doo." That's a quote! Anticipating the cartoon dog by several years, I might add. In the third paragraph, Portis calls him "the antic poet who was too far out to have any success on the Opry itself." But one day Roger Miller walks into Tootsie's Orchid Lounge, where he used to play for free because no one else would have him, with a quarter of a million dollars in his pocket - two checks. A moment of triumph! The staff at Tootsie's is happy for him. Portis visits the offices of a couple of songwriters named Burch and Crutchfield. They have just finished a number called "Push My Love Button," but decide it's too "raunchy" for any of their usual country clientele. Ann-Margret's name comes up as a possibility. "Does she sing?" one of them asks. "'Hell, naw,' says somebody, 'but she makes records.'"

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Death Zinger

Reading in John Aubrey about a Sergeant John Hoskyns: "Sir Robert Pye, Attorney of the Court of Wardes, was his neighbour, but there was no great good will between them - Sir Robert was haughty. He happened to dye on Christmas day: the newes being brought to the Serjeant, said he, The devill haz a Christmas-pye."

Word

Word comes from Scott Phillips (he read it in some liner notes!) that Charles Portis once wrote an article about Roger Miller for THE SATURDAY EVENING POST. Can this be true? If so, it will be the only thing I ever want to read and after I read it I will never read anything again. The library contains numerous bound copies of the moldering magazines of yore, and I pray THE SATURDAY EVENING POST is among them.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

The Haunted Bacon

Another ghost story from John Aubrey. This one comes in the form of a letter from "the Reverend Mr. Andrew Paschal, B.D., Rector of Chedzoy in Somerset." It's all about a fellow named Francis Fry, who met a "Man-Spectre" with a "Pole in his Hand" and a ghostly "Gentlewoman" who sometimes appeared "in shapes more horrid, as of a Dog belching Fire." Boy, did these two cause Francis Fry some trouble! For example, they tore his "best Periwig... all to flitters... I should have told you the Fate of his Shoe-strings, one of which a Gentlewoman greater than all exception, assured me that she saw it come out of his Shoe, without any visible Hand, and fling itself to the farther end of the room." A maid grabbed the other shoelace, "which crisp'd and curl'd about her Hand like a living Eel... other fantastical Freeks have been very frequent... two Flitches of Bacon descending from the Chimney where they hung..." Finally poor Fry "was caught by the Woman Spectre by the Skirts of his Doublet, and carried into the Air... half an Hour after, Fry was heard Whistling and Singing in a kind of Quagmire."

Pie Secrets of the Stars

The song "Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum" popped up on the old iPod yesterday, and I noticed for the first time that Bob Dylan sings about pecan pie in it. Naturally I thought of Abby and how she used to bake pies for Mr. Dylan, particularly pecan, which he liked best. I wondered if perhaps Mr. Dylan might be singing about Abby's pecan pie, so I sent her a wire inquiring about the timing of it all. Friends, the math does not work out. The pecan pie of which Bob Dylan sings in "Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum" is pre-Abby. But I think it is safe to say that when and if he performed the song subsequent to consuming a pie baked by Abby, he may have been thinking of one of Abby's pies as he sang. And perhaps a cryptic smile crossed his face! The crusts are so good because Abby renders the lard herself. Bob Dylan had a somewhat unusual method for eating pie, but I don't think Abby would appreciate me going around divulging the pie secrets of the stars any more than is absolutely necessary for "blog" filling purposes.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Steak Dreams

Dr. Theresa and I were walking toward the square talking about hamburgers. Somehow our hamburger talk became ridiculous dreams of steak. Who can afford to eat a steak in these troubling times? We had some old business to take care of at the City Grocery Bar. By the time that was transacted, we figured, the restaurant downstairs would be open and waiting with steaks aplenty. Let us throw caution to the wind! we decided. So downstairs we went. Right after we sat down, a gentleman in a blue baseball cap walked in and settled himself in a corner. He removed his cap. Was that the glitter of a golden earring? Why, friends, it could be no other - that gentleman was Morgan Freeman himself! Our second Morgan Freeman sighting this week. Morgan Freeman is spoiling us! No offense to our previous City Grocery celebrity sighting, but Morgan Freeman beats him by a mile. Sorry, D-Day from ANIMAL HOUSE!

Two Beautiful Italian Ghosts

The 1898 edition of John Aubrey's BRIEF LIVES seems to leave this one out completely: "Mr. Caisho Burroughs was one of the most beautiful men in England, and very Valiant, but very proud and blood-thirsty: There was then in London a very Beautiful Italian Lady, who fell so extreamly in Love with him, that she did let him enjoy her, which she had never let any Man do before: Wherefore, said she, I shall request this favour of you, never to tell anyone of it. The Gentlewoman died: and afterwards in a Tavern in London he spake of it: and there going to make water, the Ghost of the Gentlewoman did appear to him. He was afterwards troubled with the Apparition of her, even sometimes in company when he was drinking..." I got a little confused at this part, because the ghost story goes on, but it suddenly seems to be about another ghost, though she is Italian, too. But she is "a beautiful Courtesan" and the "Mistress of the Grand Duke," which doesn't fit the description of the other more modest beautiful Italian lady ghost. So I guess old Caisho Burroughs was haunted by TWO DIFFERENT BEAUTIFUL ITALIAN GHOSTS... what are the odds? The second one took her own life in Florence because of "the Departure of her Gallant of whom she was most passionately enamour'd... At the same moment that she expired, she did appear to Caisho at his Lodgings in London. Collonel Remes was then in Bed with him, who saw her as well as he... she appeared to him frequently... As often as she did appear, he would cry out with great shrieking... saying, O God! here she comes, she comes... as often as Caisho related this, he wept bitterly." The latter ghost told him he was going to die in a duel, and so he did - "she appeared to him the morning before he died."

Monday, August 22, 2011

Good Answer

Watching this movie from 1931 on TCM. This possessive jerk asks Joan Crawford where she's been and she says, "I've been down at the railroad tracks drinking champagne!"

The Tidbits Keep Coming

As I continue to examine this introduction by Oliver Lawson Dick, I notice something curious: he likes to slip in a slur upon some particular group - women, the Irish - in a casual, matter-of-fact way. What makes it especially striking is that Mr. Dick is always reminding the reader that despite John Aubrey's forward-thinking ways, he was saddled by the prejudices of his time. So is this ironic, maybe? Oliver Lawson Dick seems unaware. Putting such regrettable lapses aside, the tidbits keep coming. You know how I enjoy my tidbits. What is a "blog" but a sad pile of tidbits? For example, there was a man named Arise Evans. What a name! He "had a fungous Nose... at the first coming of King Charles II into St. Jame's Park he kiss'd the King's Hand, and rubb'd his Nose with it; which disturb'd the King, but Cured him."

Fishes Are of the Elder House

I was hasty in my dismissal of this 1949 edition of John Aubrey's BRIEF LIVES. Its introduction, which I haven't finished reading, seems to be the best of all three editions I have. Man am I boring myself right now. So I can imagine how you feel! But I can't stop. The editor who suppressed those four lines about Sir Henry Lee put me off of the 1898 edition. The 1949 introduction, by Oliver Lawson Dick, has lots of good stuff about Aubrey's problems with money, love, and finishing a book (which he never did as far as I can tell). But it also makes a good case for Aubrey as "the first archeologist that England had produced" and a forerunner of Darwin by a couple hundred years: "That the World is much older, then is commonly supposed, any man may be induced to believe from the finding of Fossils so many Foot deep in the Earth" and "Fishes are of the elder House." He also made experiments "to cure diseases, etc. by Transfusion of Bloud out of one man into another." Lots of wild stories about the medicine of the time. A woman put a toad in her husband's soup to try to poison him, but instead it cured his disease. Oh well! Aubrey is curious about everything. He interviews an old man who recalls the first carrots in England, and an old woman who remembers the first cabbages. He laments the introduction of the tabby cat: "'I doe well remember,' he says crossly, 'that the common English Catt, was white with some blewish piednesse.'" Dick writes, "The most educated and sensitive men were onlookers at... dreadful spectacles: even the kindly Aubrey reports, 'I did see Mr. Chr. Love beheaded on Tower-hill in a delicate cleare day.'"

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Have Fun

Here are some favorite lines from Bill Cunningham's narration of that second video: "Here is an elderly lady tenant. She was at one time a circus performer. She played her harmonica outside Carnegie Hall for money... And she would ride up and down inside, on my floor, on her unicycle, balancing the dog on her head." Then he just casually drops the fact that Marilyn Monroe used to come by his place and "try on hats and laugh and have fun."

Small Monster on Armadillo Car

In that Cesar Aira book I am reading, a man has just found the shell of a gigantic prehistoric armadillo and turned it into a car. And now a small, evil monster has climbed on top of the car.

Late to the Party

Everybody knows about Bill Cunningham, I suppose. I didn't know about him until a few months ago, when Abby and Elizabeth told me all about him. BEFORE THEY MOVED AWAY FOREVER! So I am going to tell you about him in case you are stupid like me. He works for the New York Times. He is an awesome old man who rides around on his bicycle taking pictures of people wearing clothes that he likes. These pictures are arranged into little montages you can watch on the New York Times "web" site. They are narrated by Mr. Cunningham. I have noticed that Mr. Cunningham likes to employ some variation on this sentence when he can: "New Yorkers don't just schlep around in cut-off blue jeans!" Here is another video, different from his usual, in which he talks wonderfully about his old apartment. I am not sure why I am so late to the party with Bill Cunningham. I guess it is similar to the way I used to skip the Sunday Styles section until my friend from Hubcap City explained what I was missing: a guy who dresses up like a carpet and asks people to stand on him. I continue to skip the Sunday Styles section, but I occasionally regret it. And now, you know, they seem to have a gossip columnist who describes Alec Baldwin removing the bones from a fish. But Bill Cunningham is several cuts above all this other stuff. He has class!

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Sorry

Viper wine can't help but make me think of Anya, who has moved away. I am sure you remember the story of how Anya consumed a cobra in Vietnam. I forgot to tell you how they made an aperitif out of the cobra's heart. Aaaaah! I'm sorry I told you.

Never Mind

On second thought, I don't see how "The Campden Wonder" is "one of the most remarkable occurrences that hath happened in the memory of man." Obviously (as the "victim" reappeared), the confession of the terrified John Perry was false, and concocted to make him seem the least murderous of his family members. He sold out his mother and brother, a terrible thing, and it didn't even save his neck. That means either Mr. Harrison's crazy adventure (with a pirate ship and everything) really happened, or Mr. Harrison just ran away with the rent money he was carrying (leaving behind his slashed hat and other "evidence" of his murder), had a good time for a couple of years, and came back.

The Campden Wonder

A passing reference by Aubrey to "one of the most remarkable occurrences that hath happened in the memory of man" led me to this strange mystery called "The Campden Wonder." Three people (a mother and two sons) were executed for a murder (one of the sons confessed) and then the old man they were accused of murdering showed up a couple of years later, claiming to have been "abducted by three men dressed in white on horseback." All of this took place in the early 1660s. And here is a "web" site where somebody is STILL trying to solve the mystery and would like your help. Talk about a cold case! That same site has the old man's letter explaining his predicament. Here's an excerpt: "As I was returning home, in the narrow passage through the gorse bushes at Ebrington, I was met by a horseman who said 'Are you there?' I was afraid he was going to ride over me, so I hit his horse over the nose. At this he hit out at me with his sword several times and ran it into my side while I defended myself as best I could with my little cane."

Comfort Cooling

That portrait of Anne Vavasour is hanging at "The Worshipful Company of Armourers and Brasiers," which has been around since 1322, I guess. Not bad! And now you can hire out the premises for a banquet. "We even have a grand piano and comfort cooling," they note. You know what else they have? Sir Henry Lee's suit of armor! "Click" here to see it.

Vavasour!

It always comes back to Edward de Vere, doesn't it? Wikipedia informs me that he was Anne Vavasour's "first lover." They had a baby out of wedlock and were sent to the Tower of London to think about the consequences of their rash actions, I guess. She is sometimes credited - so proclaims wikipedia - with authoring a poem attributed to Edward de Vere: "Anne Vavasour's Echo." I hope HE didn't write it, because it contains many lines like "Oh heavens! who was the first that bred in me this fever? Vere." That would be kind of narcissistic. See, the gimmick is that she's yelling into a cave and the cave answers her questions with an echo of her last syllable.

Good Old Knight

Aubrey records a little poem about Sir Henry Lee's relationship with Mris. Anne Vavasour. It starts, "Here lies good old knight Sir Harry,/ Who loved well, but would not marry..." and then, in a footnote, the prudish editor indicates that "Four lines are suppressed."

Friday, August 19, 2011

Good Night Rats

I have lots of leftover bits from John Aubrey to give you: He describes Sir John Popham as "a huge, heavie, ugly man" ("I have seen his picture," he notes) and says that Sir John's son "lived like a hog." Sir Everard Digby (father of Venetia Digby's husband), on the other hand, was "the handsomest man in England... 'Twas his ill fate to suffer in the powder-plott. When his heart was pluct out by the executioner (who... cryed 'Here is the heart of a traytor!') it is credibly reported, he replied, 'Thou liest!'" Sir Henry Lee "was never maried, but kept woemen to read to him when he was a bed... But his dearest deare was Mris. Anne Vavasour." He had an effigy of Mistress Vavasour placed on his grave, and "some bishop did threaten to have this monument defaced." Poor Sir Charles Cavendish "was a little, weake, crooked man" who went around the world collecting rare mathematical texts, "which he intended to have printed... But he died of the scurvey" and his wife "sold the incomparable collection aforesaid by weight to the past-board makers for wast paper." Aubrey calls this "A good caution for those that have good MSS. to take care to see them printed in their life-times." Speaking of Venetia Digby, the reference to "viper-wine" in her chapter caused me to search out this old recipe for viper wine on the "internet." It has vipers in it. The "blogger" says that Venetia's husband wrote "the earliest collection of fermented drink recipes that we know... When his beloved wife Venetia died suddenly it was widely believed that he had accidentally poisoned her with the viper wine that he gave her to preserve her beauty." So that adds a few layers to Aubrey's account, and really, what was Aubrey but a "blogger"? But not everything is about John Aubrey. For example, today I found this picture of Jimmy Olsen being harassed by a beatnik. And then for some reason I read an article about scientists studying the dreams of rats. And so good night. Good night, little rats! (Jimmy Olsen panel via the Silver Age Comics "blog" - hours of fun!) PS: What do rats dream about? They dream about running in a circular maze, say scientists who put them in a circular maze, and they also dream about "standing still."

The Good Old Gentleman

Thomas Allen had "a great many mathematicall instruments and glasses in his chamber," which meant that "the vulgar did verily beleeve him to be a conjurer." Once, when he went on vacation, "he happened to leave his watch in the chamber windowe - (watches were then rarities) - The maydes came in to make the bed, and hearing a thing in a case cry Tick, Tick, Tick, presently concluded that that was his Devill, and took it by the string with the [tongs] and threw it out of the windowe into the mote... It so happened that the string hung on a sprig of an elder that grew out of the mote, and this confirmed them that 'twas the Devill. So the good old gentleman gott his watch again." John Aubrey's BRIEF LIVES.

Viper-Wine

I'm taking the other versions back to the library. It's clear that the 1898 edition of BRIEF LIVES is the way to go. It seems to transcribe meticulously almost every little scrap of Aubrey, marginalia and all. The editor, Andrew Clark, warns us: "Some things in Aubrey's writing offend not merely against our present canons of good taste, but against good morals. The conversation of the people among whom Aubrey moved, although they were gentry both in position and in education, was often vulgar, and occasionally foul, as judged by us." The story of Venetia Digby is not TOO racy. It does have a sad and morbid ending. "She was a most beautifull desireable creature... it seems her beauty could not lye hid. The young eagles had espied her, and she was sanguine and tractable, and of much suavity... Her face, a short ovall; dark-browne eie-browe, about which much sweetness, as also in the opening of her eie-lidds. The colour of her cheekes was just that of the damaske rose, which is neither too hott nor too pale... She dyed in her bed suddenly. Some suspected that she was poysoned. When her head was opened there was found but little braine, which her husband imputed to her drinking of viper-wine; but spiteful woemen would say 'twas a viper-husband who was jealous of her that she would steale a leape." Aubrey isn't as kind to poor Bess Broughton, though he says "She was a most exquisite beautie, as finely shaped as nature could frame; and had a delicate witt." It seems "Her father at length discovered her inclinations and locked her up in the turret of the house, but she getts downe by a rope; and away she gott to London, and did sett-up for her selfe... her price was very deare... At last she grew common and infamous and gott the pox, of which she died." Then he lists some various songs and jokes that people made about Bess Broughton and her pox.

"Blog" Mail "Bag"

Time once more to take a peek into the "blog" mail "bag." Lee Durkee writes in to take up for his beloved Edward de Vere (from the shadow of whose ancestral castle he writes). No way, says Lee, did Edward de Vere have that unfortunate accident in front of Queen Elizabeth. "John Aubrey was famous for getting things wrong," Lee says. Edward de Vere did, however, Lee admits, "set an entire village on fire while orchestrating a mock battle for [the Queen's] entertainment (he heroically helped douse the flames)." Does that count as heroic, though? If you started the fire to begin with? But I don't want to get into another Edward de Vere argument with Lee. Meanwhile my brother-in-law David writes in with an interesting real estate listing. If you scroll down all the pictures of the property, you will see that there is a skeleton in the basement!