Wednesday, May 26, 2010
This summer Lisa and I will be traveling to the great Midwest. The people, the food, the places are all different from our home here in the Pacific Northwest. Sheboygan is one stop for a few days in our trip. We will be participating in the John Michael Kohler Summer arts Festival; http://www.jmkac.org/ While there we will be sampling some of the local fair. City Bakery is listed in Road Food.com as an incredible place for fresh pastries. I may not be a big pastry man but a good pastry is a good pastry! Also on my game plan is the double Brat at the Charcoal Inn. The one thing about road trips is one must eat well while on the road. This I believe.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
William Butler Yeats wrote about many things but his poem about the short lived Irish uprising is especially moving. He is writing about the effects of the uprising and the acquaintances of his that were hung or imprisoned for their part in it. Out of all the poets I've read recently, Wordsworth, Keats, Kipling, Eliot, William Butler Yeats has moved me the most.
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our winged horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
A terrible beauty is born.
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road.
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse -
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Yeats, William Butler. Easter, 1916. The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume B. Eighth Edition. WW Norton and Co. 2006.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
As I prepare for doing the shows in the Midwest this year I think about all the things you need to do to get ready. The one thing I don't have to worry about is coffee. The Seattle coffee explosion of the eighties has even reached now to places like Montana and the Dakotas. There is a Starbucks every 100 to 150 miles along I90 so you can always plan on a clean bathroom, wi-fi and a cup of coffee. Late night driving is a little more problematic. Truck stop bathrooms are always an iffy affair and the coffee? Oh my.
Wisconsin however is a great destination. As long as you know where to look the food is good and the people are friendly. I'm looking forward to this summer and the crazy long distance driving we'll have to do. Look for on the road blogs this summer. I plan on reading a lot, eating a lot, and trying some of those Wisconsin micro brews (Milwaukee has some great beer.)
Reading for the trip;
Walden, The Forgers Spell, John Keats Poetry, Shades of Grey
This summer I'll get to do the reading I put off during the school year.
"Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."
Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five
This quote is from the tombstone for Billy Pilgrim the main character from Vonnegut's book Slaughterhouse Five. He believed that all time existed always, as if every moment of time was frozen in amber and could be visited at will. Free will was a figment of Human imagination and everything is, as, and always will be. This absurd notion is Vonnegut's way of poking fun at our society, at the "inevitability" of war. It is also a coping mechanism for Billy Pilgrim (as well as Vonnegut) who witnessed the destruction of Dresden by firebombing at the end of World War II.
Whether or not the firebombing of Dresden was justified Vonnegut's feeling that human beings were bound to kill each other off was strengthened every time he looked around. After World War II he watched as we participated in the Korean War, the Vietnam War, The Gulf War and finally at the very end of his life he watched as an out of control administration took us into Iraq and Afghanistan. His last years were spent in speaking in his indomitable manner against the wars and especially Bush and his administration. He never failed when given the opportunity to dig a little at our 43rd president.
"I have the humorist Paul Krasner to thank for pointing out a big difference between George W Bush and Hitler: Hitler was elected."
Kurt Vonnegut, written for a speech at Clowes Hall Indianapolis, April 27th, 2007 given by his son as he had passed away only a few weeks before. Published in Armageddon in Retrospect a collection of previously unpublished writings.
Also in this speech he ends it with as his son says in the aforementioned book Is "as good a way as any for him to say goodbye."
"And I thank you for your attention, and I'm outta here."
Kurt Vonnegut- November 11, 1922 – April 11, 2007
"So it Goes."