I was born in Maryland and spent my first thirty years living there, first in the Appalachian Mountains, then on the Eastern Shore, and later in suburban Washington. After a year in South Carolina, I moved to Georgia in 1977. I soon met another park ranger who worked in Florida. She was a wonderful woman who became my best friend. then my wife, and soon the mother of our three children. I spent over eleven years working in the historic city of Savannah, Georgia, and on the moss-draped sea islands nearby before moving to Atlanta.. In 2007, I retired from the National Park Service and a career dedicated to preserving and interpreting resources and themes in the cultural and natural history of the United States. It was a most rewarding experience. Today, I enjoy living in the rolling hills and woods of the Appalachian Piedmont east of Atlanta.
The Seventh Day of Christmas is New Year's Eve. In much of Christian Europe this day is also known as Silvester or the Feast of Sylvester. One of the more interesting iterations of celebrating the arrival of the new year occurs in Scotland. It's known as Hogmanay. It's a nice blend of old and new elements including feasts, fireworks, bonfires, torchlight processions, and the driving out trolls.
The many features of Hogmanay will be repeated throughout this day as the new year sweeps across the face of the planet. Virtually all the these activities, though reduced in scale by the current pandemic, will involve the gathering of family and friends. Whether they celebrate among millions or simply with immediate family there will come a time to end the celebration and look forward to the sun rising on the first new day of the new year. In the western world, perhaps any place touched by British traditions, that gathering will end with the singing of Robert Burns's poem, Auld Lang Syne, set to an ancient Scottish folk melody. At least three centuries before Burns's lyric became popular, there was another song shared among departing English, Irish, and Scots friends on the eve of the new year. We offer The Parting Glass to you today as we ring out 2020 and ring in 2021 as a year of hope overflowing with blessing and goodwill for all in addition to the control of Covid-19.
After the good-byes and watching from windows and doorways as our guests depart, we return to a favorite chair near the fireplace. With nog in hand and thoughts not only of the the past few hours but also of days gone by, the faces in the fire whisper to us in a spectrum of colors, a chorus of expressions, and life is good.
Born on this day in Bombay (Mumbai), India, in 1865, the British writer, Rudyard Kipling, was a product of England and India. He infused his writing with the essence of Victorian times and the adventure of empire in a foreign culture he would come to call his own. Eighty years after his death he remains a popular writer, a beacon of reason and rhetoric, among political centrists and conservatives. His works for children, including the Jungle Books and Just So Stories, have never lost their popularity among young readers. It is so unfortunate that cultural relativism over the last forty years has sadly pushed Kipling into literary obscurity in most of academia. Although he may be out of fashion he still reaches across a century into an age of moral relativism and leftist ideological fantasy to remind us that ancient virtues and wisdom will hold us accountable in the end.
Kipling and his wife spent about five years living at Bliss Cottage near Brattleboro, Vermont, just prior to the height of his career. In was in this setting that he produced some of his most memorable work, including Jungle Books, a short story collection entitled The Day's Work, his novel, Captain's Courageous, and a volume of poetry, The Seven Seas.
Our political and cultural slide to the left in the last few decades has brought Kipling's appreciation of realism to the fore. One of his most quoted poems that speaks to the necessity for reason and the folly of cultural relativism is "The Gods of the Copybook Headings." The title derives from the sage advice often appearing at the top of pages in a student's exercise book. Many readers have inquired about the poem since it first appeared in this blog some years ago. It's become a tradition of sorts to commemorate Kipling's birthday and the coming of a new year by reposting it each year; therefore, I'm pleased to present it once again for the uninitiated and for those in need of a Kipling booster. It is indeed a powerful statement for our time.
The Gods of the Copybook Headings
AS I PASS through my incarnations in every age and race, I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place. Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn: But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind, So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace, Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place, But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch, They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch; They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings; So we worshiped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace. They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease. But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."
On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life (Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife) Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."
In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all, By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul; But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man There are only four things certain since Social Progress began. That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire, And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins, As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn, The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
Indeed there will never be another entertainer quite like Oscar Levant (1906-1972), born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on December 27. He was a classically trained concert pianist, composer, author, actor, dancer, and comedy genius. The one thread moving throughout his working life was mental illness, a condition that eventually became the core of his stage persona. It was an odd therapeutic for Levant and it brought laughter to millions. Today he's likely unknown to more than a generation of Americans but that doesn't mean he's ready for history's dustbin. Quite the contrary. There must be something important about Oscar Levant and his legacy if Hollywood insiders keep talking about a film based on the entertainer's life.
Although Levant's presence on the entertainment spectrum was broad, his greatest impact was as a concert pianist, comedian, and author. He trained in classical music in Pittsburgh and New York and divided his musical time between Hollywood and Broadway as a young performer and composer. He became a close friend and associate of George Gershwin and his extended family of stars and admirers. With Gershwin's early death in 1937, Levant would become known as the finest interpreter of his work for almost two decades until the end of his own career as a concert performer. Levant's Hollywood association not only led to his role as a composer but also as an actor. Although his filmography is short it contains a host of memorable, mostly comedic scenes involving song, dance and wit. Here are two clips of Levant at his best:
From the 1951 film, An American in Paris,
And from the 1953 musical-comedy film, The Band Wagon, inspired by the 1931 musical revue of the same name,
Next there is Levant, the radio and television personality. From the 1930's into the 1950's he was featured regularly on several radio programs and made frequent guest appearances on others. His knowledge of Hollywood personalities combined with his musical talent, quick wit and self-deprecating posture made him a hit from coast to coast. That status also made for an easy transition to television.
Finally, there is Levant, the writer. He produced three memoirs, two of them best-sellers. His Memoirs of An Amnesiac (1965) is a recollection of his often weird and tattered life as well as a tour de force of wit and wisdom aimed at Hollywood's famous and infamous personalities beginning in the 1930s. His The Unimportance of Being Oscar appeared in 1968. Although both books are a bit dated, readers with some knowledge of popular culture and politics from the Golden Age of Hollywood in the 1930's to the entertainment world of the 1960's would certainly find both books entertaining reads.
After hosting his own syndicated television program from Los Angeles in 1958-59 he made several noteworthy appearances on The Tonight Show with Jack Paar where he openly discussed his mental health issues. By the early '60's his mental and physical condition deteriorated significantly, his drug dependency increased, and he withdrew from public life. Here is one of his last television appearances:
There is a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased that line.
Oscar Levant, 1959
Sources
ClassicalNet biography, Oscar Levant wikipedia.org, Oscar Levant
Today is the fourth Sunday of Advent when Christians light the Angel's Candle symbolizing the annunciation of Christ's birth.
The Annuciation of Mary Salvador Dali, lithograph, 1967
In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.” “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a Virgin?” The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.” “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.
Luke 1:26-38 NIV
Music for the day is the 15th century English song text, Adam Lay Ybounden, performed by the Mediaeval Babes. The text centers on the concept of "blessed fault" or the "fall upward" in three verses focused on Adam, temptation, original sin, the birth of Christ, and redemption.
Middle English...
Adam lay ibounden
Bounden in a bond
Foure thousand winter
Thought he not too long
And all was for an apple
An apple that he tok
As clerkes finden
Wreten in here book
Ne hadde the apple taken ben
The apple taken ben
Ne hadde never our lady
A ben hevene queen
Blissed be the time
That apple take was
Therefore we moun singen
"Deo gracias!"
Modern English ...
Adam lay in bondage
Bound by a contract
For four thousand winters
That he hadn't thought would be too long
And all because of an apple
An apple that he took
As clerics found
Written in this book
Had the apple never been taken
The apple been taken
Neither would our Lady ever have
Been the Queen of Heaven
So blessed be the moment
That apple was taken
For now we can sing
"Thanks be to God"
May you have a blessed day as we approach the celebration of Christmas.
Madonna in the Rose Garden Stefan Lochner, ca 1448
Prepare the way by proclaiming good news. The early church gave the title "Gaudete" to the third Sunday in Advent. The word simply means, "Rejoice!" When you are joyful about something, you share that good news. Think of the custom of the family Christmas letter. Many families will send out letters during these holidays, summarizing the joyful family news of the past year: the birth of a grandchild, a new job, etc. If such joyful events are considered worthy of sharing, how much more the goo news that the Son of God came into our world to save us from sins! Moreover, he is coming again to take believers to an eternity of glory. That is good news believers need to hear again and again. It is a message that we with joyful faith yearn to share with a world that is in desperate need of some good news.
The joyful nature of this Sunday is illustrated by the lone, rose-colored candle on the Advent wreath. It hints of the joyful birth that we are soon to celebrate.
For the seekers of antiquity among our readers here is the chanted Introit - with translation below - from which this Sunday gets it name:
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Let your forbearance be known to all, for the Lord is near at hand; have no anxiety about anything, but in all things, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God. Lord, you have blessed your land; you have turned away the captivity of Jacob.
Philipians, 4:4-6: Psalm 85(84):1
May your day be filled with rejoicing!
Sources
Text: Gaudete translation source: Wikipedia page for Gaudete Sunday.
Frank Sinatra, the American singer and actor whose phenomenal career spanned sixty years ending in 1995, was born in Hoboken, New Jersey, on this day in 1915. During his career he produced a discography spanning the eras of jazz, swing, big band, and pop music. I had the good fortune to attend two Sinatra concerts during the '60's. Both were unforgettable opportunities to see this American icon at work as a storm of rock music swept the nation and displaced the popular song as the dominant music genre in our culture.
Sinatra at the White House, Washington, D.C., 1973
Writing at nationalreview.com on the centennial (2015) of Sinatra's birth, Deroy Murdock begins his exploration of the life, times, and legacy of "Ol' Blue Eyes" with this:
Saturday completes a century since Francis Albert Sinatra belted out his first note as a newborn, 13-and-a-half-pound baby in Hoboken, N.J. He grew up to become the finest male vocalist of the 20th Century, alongside his female counterpart and occasional partner in rhyme, Ella Fitzgerald. But Frank was much more than just a crooner. He excelled as an actor, dancer, TV host, entrepreneur, record-company executive, and even music conductor. His timeless fashion sense defined style and elegance for gentlemen from the 1940s until today. He left enormous footprints on popular culture and was as original an American as this nation has produced. After 100 years, a hundred superlatives barely could do Sinatra justice. Rather than wade through the many adjectives that define the man, the best way to appreciate Sinatra and his gigantic contribution is to savor his artistry and epic life story.
For those who simply want to remember and enjoy Sinatra at his best I offer his version of One For My Baby (And One More For The Road) (1943), music by Harold Arlen, words by Johnny
Mercer:
He left us in 1998 as a man who had a way with a song quite unlike that of any other singer in the 20th century.
Sources
Photos and Illustrations: public domain photo in the United States, Modified version of Image:Andreotti Sinatra Nixon.jpg (NARA - ARC Identifier: 194505)
This is the 79th anniversary of the Imperial Japanese Navy's attack on the U.S. Navy's base at Pearl Harbor.
Below is Pearl Harbor as it appeared on October 30, 1941
Five weeks later a Japanese pilot took this photograph over Pearl Harbor during the torpedo attack on Battleship Row, visible on the far side of Ford Island.
There were almost 4000 casualties that day, including 1200 dead.
The attack led to a war effort that included 16,000,000 American men and women in uniform. The National World War II Museum in New Orleans writes that only 325,574 of these veterans survive and they are dying at the rate of 245 a day. Soon, the relics, memorials and ceremony will be all that is left to testify to America's greatest generation at war. If we are to survive, we need to remember them now and in the future for what they did to crush evil in the world.
If you mention the name "Gershwin" today just about everyone will think you have "George" on your mind. Granted he wrote some spectacular music between 1917 and 1937, much of it as fresh today as the day it was written. But George and his melodies were only half of the story. His brother, Ira, born on December 6, 1896, added the poetry. Together they formed one of the most successful collaborations in American music history. While George's music has lived on, Ira's words survive primarily in the world of jazz and in the Great American Songbook niche among popular singers.
George (i) and Ira (r) at Newark Airport in 1936
This excerpt from the Ira Gershwin bio at the Song Writers Hall of Fame website will give readers an idea of the scope of their collaboration and bring to mind some of Ira's lyrics:
Their first collaborations were for Broadway: Lady, Be Good! (1924, including "Fascinating Rhythm" and, although it was cut from the show, "The Man I Love"), Tip Toes (1925, including "Sweet and Low Down"), Oh Kay! (1926, including "Clap Yo' Hands", "Do-Do-Do", "Maybe", and "Someone To Watch Over Me"), Funny Face (1927, including '"S Wonderful"), Rosalie (1928, including "How Long Has This Been Going On"), Show Girl (1929, including "Liza"), Strike Up the Band (1930, including "I've Got A Crush On You" and "Soon"), Girl Crazy (1930, including "But Not For Me", "Embraceable You", "Bidin' My Time", and "I Got Rhythm"), Delicious (1931, including "Blah Blah Blah. "), Of Thee I Sing (1931, the first musical to win the Pulitzer Prize and which included "Of Thee I Sing", "Love Is Sweeping The Country", and "Who Cares").
The complete picture includes their work in Hollywood, the Broadway opera Porgy and Bess, and Ira's collaboration with a host of songwriters following his brother's death in 1937. Forty years before his own passing in 1983 Ira Gershwin began a long collaboration with the Library of Congress to collect and preserve their legacy. Today the George and Ira Gershwin Collection is the leading archive for the study of the Gershwin brothers and their impact on cultural history around the world. Read more about the collection here.
The Gershwin brothers are two of my favorites in the world of music and lyrics. Ira was devastated by the loss of his brother at the age of 38 in the summer of 1937. He continued collaborating with other composers for the next twenty years and produced some remarkable lyrics, but not nearly at the volume nor success level experienced with his brother. I often wonder what the two of them would have produced had George lived another thirty years.
Sources
Text: Songwriters Hall of Fame, songwritershalloffame.org Library of Congress, loc.gov
From 1920 to 1925, he worked for members of Congress out of an office in the Cannon House Office Building until he was arrested. After a brief hiatus, he returned to serving his loyal customers from 1925 to 1930 out of an office only this time it was in the Russell Senate Office Building. His name was George Cassiday. He was known as "the man in the green hat" and his business was supplying Congress with booze during Prohibition.
Reason TV has a brief article and five-minute history about Mr. Cassiday and his most interesting job. I'm left to conclude that the period 1920-30 had to be one of the happiest decades in history for our esteemed statesmen on Capital Hill.
And why are we discussing this story today? This is Repeal Day, celebrating the 87th anniversary of the end (1933) of Prohibition. This thirteen-year (1920-1933) attempt to end alcohol consumption in the United States was a disaster at every level and an object lesson in the futility of legislating morality as well as an object lesson in hypocrisy as pointed out in the lead paragraph.
H.L. Mencken (r) celebrates the end of Prohibition, Rennert Hotel, Baltimore
And it so happens that one of my favorite musical composition addresses this alcohol theme. Those unfamiliar with the piece will enjoy the translation below the link. It's a wonderful lesson from the 10th century illustrating why the extinction of alcohol consumption is a rather worthless endeavor. This is a fine performance conducted by the composer. I suggest you pour your favorite beverage, find your best earphones and comfortable chair and enjoy the meaning of the day, in moderation, of course. And if this music doesn't inspire you to do so you'd better check your pulse. Cheers!
Carmina Burana
Carl Orff, 1935-36
II. In the Tavern Part 14: When we are in the tavern
When we are in the tavern, we do not think how we will go to dust, but we hurry to gamble, which always makes us sweat. What happens in the tavern, where money is host, you may well ask, and hear what I say. Some gamble, some drink, some behave loosely. But of those who gamble, some are stripped bare, some win their clothes here, some are dressed in sacks. Here no-one fears death, but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus. First of all is to the wine-merchant the libertines drink, one for the prisoners, three for the living, four for all Christians, five to faithful dead, six for the loose sisters, seven for the footpads in the wood, Eight for the errant brethren, nine for the dispersed monks, ten for the seamen, eleven for the squabblers, twelve for the penitent, thirteen for the wayfarers. To the Pope as to the king they all drink without restraint. the mistress drinks, the master drinks the soldier drinks, the priest drinks, the man drinks, the woman drinks, the servant drinks with the maid, the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks, the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks, the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks, The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks, the exile drinks, and the stranger, the boy drinks, the old man drinks, the bishop drinks, and the deacon, the sister drinks, the brother drinks, the old lady drinks, the mother drinks, this man drinks, that man drinks, a hundred drink, a thousand drink. Six hundred pennies would hardly if everyone drinks immoderately and immeasurably. However much they cheerfully drink we are the ones whom everyone scolds, and thus we are destitute. May those who slander us be cursed, and may their names not be written in the book of the righteous.
You can enjoy the Latin poem and this English version together at the You Tube link.
Sources
Photos and Illustrations: prohibition, baltimoreorless.com/2012/05/the-rise-and-fall-of-prohibition-in-baltimore-maryland-1918-1933/
Supposedly kids still hear about receiving a lump of coal in their Christmas stocking as payment for a year of bad behavior. It's one gift that's certainly not a sign of grace at Christmastide. On the other hand, given the state of behavior of too many children these days perhaps we are a bit overdue on restoring some form of payment - punishment if you will - for the erosion of good conduct.
We don't have to create something new for this plan. Some years ago I stumbled on an Old World solution that's been around for centuries in many central and eastern European cultures. To boot, for the last thousand years or so he has been associated with the most benevolent and generous of figures, Sinterklaas, or as we know him today Saint Nicholas or Santa. So who is this Bad Santa, the other half of the holiday team? His name is Krampus. Unfortunately, he is extreme to the point of terrifying for children. In fact, an unexpected visit from this visage in the dead of night would insure obedience from most rational adults.
St. Nicholas and Krampas Arnold Nechansky, Wiener Werkstatte, 1912
I first discovered Krampus through post cards on the Internet. When I began looking at cards from central Europe, especially those printed by the magnificent Wiener Werkstatte in the early decades of the 20th century, I noticed that two figures often appeared on the Christmas cards depicting a visit to a welcoming family. One was a traditional Saint Nicholas character dressed in ornate flowing robes and carrying a bag of gifts. The other was a shabbily dressed rather grotesque if not devil-like creature carrying a bundle of switches and a bag. The intention of the visit was to leave a nice gift for the good children or a lump of coal for the "behaviorally challenged." While good children enjoyed their presents, moderately bad boys and girls could expect a swat or two from the switches. The worst cases went into the bag and carried off to who knows where or what.
Please, I'm not advocating whipping, kidnapping, and cooking as a corrective for youth beyond the bounds of civilized coexistence. Rather, I'd just like a little balance for all the feet jabbed into my Economy Class back between Atlanta and anywhere, the screaming tantrums endured at finer restaurants, and the toxic aerosol clouds projected my way by sneezing toddlers. Yes, it is time to modernize the deliveryman and bring on the coal acknowledging of course that the traditional Krampus needs plenty of modification to work as a disciplinarian in the 21st century!
Tonight, the eve of Saint Nicholas Day, is the Night of the Krampus. Although this night for European adults has taken on an almost Halloween-like character often fueled by alcohol, it remains a fascinating ancient story of the dual nature of our existence. Those who understand that good does not stand without evil, just as there are no mountains without valleys, can learn more about the Krampus tradition here.
Sources
Photos and Illustrations: https://www.theviennasecession.com/a-history/
Today is the 146th anniversary of the birth of Winston Churchill. The 19th century American literary icon, Ralph Waldo Emerson, said "there is properly no history, only biography." You'll get some argument about that statement these days. On the other hand, in the last century and a half there is Churchill. I think we would be hard-pressed to find a better illustration of history as biography in that time frame.
For more on information on Winston Churchill go here. And here, thanks to Steven Hayward at Powerline, is a teachable moment from the great political philosopher, Leo Strauss, on hearing of Churchill's death in 1965. In addition, we cannot forget Churchill as a historian. He was both an extraordinary observer and compelling writer. New readers should start their journey with My Early Life: A Roving Commission, first published in 1930. I have a feeling it will not be their last volume by Churchill.
Churchill was a master of the English language but even he struggled for the right words to both describe the reality his countrymen faced at the hands of Luftwaffe bombers during the the Blitz of 1940 and 1941 as well as rally them to endure what he knew would be their darkest hour:
The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be freed and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new dark age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves, that if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, This was their finest hour.
Aside from the monarchy - Queen Elizabeth in particular - if ever there is an individual who personifies England in the modern era, it is Churchill.
Sources
Photos and Illustrations:public domain photos, Imperial War Museums
Temperatures in the low 40's, brisk northwest winds, and a low overcast make for what I imagine is a perfect St. Andrew's Day for most Scots. Thus, I was very pleased to unfurl the St. Andrew's Cross - the flag of Scotland - at our home to honor both the country and it's patron saint.
There was no feasting or dancing for me today but I did enjoy thinking of the many years my wife and I attended the Clan Robertson and Clan Donnachaidhceilidh following the last day of the Stone Mountain Highland Games held annually in mid-October. Our gathering lasted deep into the evening and always featured a top shelf Scotch whisky tasting, plenty of dancing and singing, a few pipers pipping, harps and fiddles, and tables groaning with food, including the occasional haggis which often left a few guests groaning as well. At its height well over 100 guests attended, many of them from the farthest reaches of the Scottish diaspora.
It has been fifteen years since I last attended the games and an afterparty. Much has changed over that time as the main event approaches its fiftieth anniversary. For one, the famous tattoo that attracted pipe bands from around the world fell victim to high costs and the loss of its venue. In addition the organization has struggled somewhat to build and sustain interest in Scottish history and ancestry among younger people who will determine its future. As for me I'm quite content to let the St. Andrew's banner grace the entrance to the house and dream about renewed friendships, great music, and those wonderful Scotch eggs I enjoyed on so many Sunday evenings in Stone Mountain.
Some day you will be old enough to read fairy tales
C.S. Lewis
I was introduced to the mind of C. S. (Clive Staples) Lewis through a gift from my best friend. He gave me a copy of The Four Loves as medication for some conflicting developments in a relationship with Marti, the girl of my dreams at the time. Eventually, Marti moved on and met a professor of English at UNC Chapel Hill. I was left with a life-long literary relationship with Lewis and can only trust that Marti found equal tenure with the prof.
C.S. Lewis, one of the last century's leading scholars, novelists, and Christian apologists, was born on this day in 1898. Many readers likely know his name and even more know some of his work - The Screwtape Letters, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Space Trilogy, Mere Christianity, Surprised By Joy - but many may not be familiar with the depth and breadth of his literary accomplishments.
C.S. Lewis National Portrait Gallery, London
Immersed the the world of the university scholar where he was a close friend and colleague of J. R.R. Tolkein, Lewis enjoyed the community but also appreciated his privacy. For that reason, very few interviews and recordings of the man survive. One tape still with us is a fifteen-minute talk he gave over BBC Radio during a three part series of presentations between 1942 and 1944. The recording reveals the great warmth, friendliness, and integrity of the man.
The talks soon appeared as three separate books shortly after World War II. In 1952, the series was edited into a single book, Mere Christianity. It's now considered a masterpiece in Christian apologetics. If you cannot enjoy a Lewis book you simply haven't read enough of his work. And there is enough to accommodate readers as his Wikipedia bibliography has almost eighty entries of poetry, fiction, and non-fiction. Choose...and enjoy.
Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you get neither
To see a world in a grain of sand And heaven in a wild flower Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour
from Auguries of Innocence, William Blake, 1803
On this day in 1757 the British artist and writer, William Blake, was born in London. He is without a doubt my favorite anarchist. He helps me dream.
In his own time he was so eccentric his neighbors and friends thought he was a madman. As an engraver and illustrator he was caught between the decline of the guilds and the rise of industrialization. It was a time when men saw the value of their labors swept away from the cottage and into the factory under the watchful eye of the manager. For workers, the loss of autonomy, the shift in control and production, and the helplessness in the face of change led to a revolt against the Age of Reason and a rage against technologies it spawned. Two centuries later he would be recognized as both one whose vision, imagination and sensitivity were unmatched in the age of Romanticism, and a truly unique influence in the history of the Western world.
There is one certainty about Blake's work and that is its complexity. He is by far one of the most interesting visionaries to come out of the West and its traditions. I hope you will take time to examine him and his extraordinary contributions to our experience. To explore his work appropriately is beyond the intent of this blog and capability of its author. For readers who want to learn more about Blake, to me there's no finer work available than Jacob Bronowski's A Man Without A Mask, published in 1944, and it's expanded version, William Blake and the Age of Revolution, published in 1972.
William Blake Thomas Phillips, English, 1807
I have learned much from the artist and philosopher, William Blake, in an effort to balance my life between intellect and emotion. So far it's been a beautiful, productive, and fascinating journey. These works have been a part of that experience:
In the following illustration Blake depicts his character, Urizen, [You rising] as reason shaping the world and its experience. This engraving is also interpreted as God the Father [and often God the Son] as divining existence. It is a prime example of the complex and often confounding world of Blake's imagination.
The Ancient of Days William Blake, 1793
Here Blake depicts Isaac Newton [and the Age of Reason] at the bottom of the sea shaping (the dividers, once more) the world of humankind on the earth. Newton has turned his back on the organic beauty of God's natural world.
Newton William Blake, 1795
Here, the Angel of Peace descends forcibly out of heaven illustrating God's reason (the dividers) brought into the world in the form of his Son to reconcile Nature (the recline female nude) and a redeemed humanity
The Descent of Peace William Blake, ca. 1815
One of Blake's most familiar pieces is his preface to Milton A Poem. The preface says much about Blake's philosophy opposing the Age of Reason as embodied in Greek and Roman thought and the dangers a reliance on intellect can bring to a world based equally on emotion. Furthermore, the preface is a perfect illustration of Blake's religious mysticism as well as his veneration of Milton.
The stolen and perverted writings of Homer and Ovid, of Plato and Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible; but when the New Age is at leisure to pronounce, all will be set right, and those grand works of the more ancient, and consciously and professedly Inspired men will hold their proper rank, and the Daughters of Memory shall become the Daughters of Inspiration, Shakspeare and Milton were curb'd by the general malady and infection from the silly Greek and Latin slaves of the sword. Rouse up, O Young Men of the New Age! Set your foreheads against the ignorant hirelings! For we have hirelings in the camp, the Court, and the University, who would, if they could, for ever depress mental, and prolong corporeal war. Painters! on you I call. Sculptors! Architects! suffer not the fashionable fools to depress your powers by the prices they pretend to give for contemptible works, or the expensive advertising boasts that they make of such works; believe Christ and His Apostles that there is a class of men whose whole delight is in destroying. We do not want either Greek or Roman models if we are but just and true to our own Imaginations, those Worlds of Eternity in which we shall live for ever, in Jesus our Lord.
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic mills.
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
Would to God that all the Lord's people were Prophets. Numbers xi, ch. 26
Readers may be more familiar with Blake's poem through this medium:
As this tribute comes to a close, I'd like to reference one of Blake's poems that virtually all children read before the end of their middle schools years a half century ago. It's remarkably simple in form yet its questions brim with imagination and wonder. I so hope that "The Tyger" is still read and heard by young students so they can remember its message over their varied lifetimes.
Tyger, Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies,
Burnt the fire in thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger, Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
William Blake John Linnell, English, 1863
He who binds himself to a joy
Doth the winged life destroy
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity's sunrise
Eternity, William Blake, 1803
Sources
Photos and Illustrations: wikipedia.com Blake portrait, National Portrait Gallery, Washington, D.C. Newton, Tate Gallery, London, U.K.blakearchive.org/Blake
Text: wikipedia.com, Blake entry blakearchive.org/Blake bartleby.com/235/284.html Jacob Bronowski, A Man Without A Mask, Seeker and Warburg, London, 1944
Here is a prayer for thanksgiving by Martin Luther...
God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, You looked upon all that You created and declared it good. Grant that we, this day, might regard Your creation with the same esteem and appreciation, seeing You at work in every daily operation. Help us to give thanks as we recognize Your loving work in all abundant blessings. Most of all, let us see not only Your creation, but also its redemption, through Jesus Christ. Amen
... a song of thanksgiving arranged by John Rutter...
Eternal God, we give you thanks for music, Blest gift from heaven to all your servants here on earth: In time of joy a crown, in sorrow consolation; Companion through our days of tears and mirth.
We give you thanks for every sound of beauty: For sweetest harmony that echoes in our hearts, For melodies that soar on high like birds at morning, For voice and instrument in all their parts.
As we are blest, so may our gift bless others: May hearts be touched and spirits lifted up anew. Let music draw together those who live as strangers, Bring joy to those we love, in thankfulness true.
And when at last we come into your kingdom, All discord over and all earthly labour done, Then sound and silence yield before one equal music, And with the Giver shall our souls be one.
...and a final wish for the day from our house to yours...
Only two days before Thanksgiving and still looking for something to accompany the bird? May I suggest a traditional Maryland holiday dish that has been a part of many special dinners dating from my highchair days. It's Skipjack Oyster Dressing. The official Maryland recipe we've used over the last twenty years has been a hit even among most doubters, but being oysters, you'll always have some holdouts. They'll never know what they're missing.
One of our guests asked about the term, "skipjack." Skipjacks, the state boat of Maryland, are shallow-draft, sailing vessels developed on the Chesapeake Bay for harvesting oysters. They are the last working boats under sail in the United States, according to the Maryland State Archives. There's also a brief entry about them on Wikipedia, including a list of active boats. I first saw them in the early '50s. At that time, there were about 100 working the Chesapeake.
Hope you enjoy a taste from the Bay. If your menu is set or you need some time to think about it there's always Christmas dinner.
November 18, marks the 111th anniversary of the birth of John Herndon Mercer (1909-1976). For fans of the Great American Songbook, this is a significant event. Mercer won four Academy Awards for Best Original Song and had another twelve nominations. Indeed he was quite a music master.
Born into wealth in Savannah, Mercer often recounted how his Aunt Hattie hummed to him in his crib and "he hummed right back at her." It was the beginning of a musical career that would produce more than 1500 published songs, a few thousand more unpublished songs and song fragments, scores of poems and prose pieces, an unfinished autobiography, and a major chapter in the history of American music in the twentieth century.
In Mercer's Savannah, a rich Southern culture blended with a diverse and exciting port city. He spent his childhood fascinated by train and ship whistles, and the sounds and rhythms drifting from the black churches around town. He was thrilled by the chance to slip away from his mother's watchful eye and visit the black business district on West Broad Street - now MLK Boulevard - where he listened to race records. The family's summer home on the Vernon River, about ten miles south of town, immersed him in the natural world of Georgia's tidal creeks and salt marshes. By his teen years, he loved hearing the dance and jazz bands every summer at the famous Tybrisa Pavilion on nearby Tybee Island. He also began writing songs and skits for his student productions at Woodberry Forest School in Virginia.
When the family business failed in the late '20s, any hope of returning to Woodberry or attending college dimmed. He grew bored at home and shipped off to New York to become a Broadway performer. The demand for singers was weak, but he began tinkering with lyric writing when he wasn't singing or working odd jobs. Here is his first published song lyric:
Lyrics are meant to be heard, but it's not always easy to appreciate them without the poetry on the page, so here is a sample of that early genius as work:
Out of Breath (1930)
lyrics by Johnny Mercer music by Everette Miller
Mine's a hopeless case, But there's one saving grace, Anyone would feel as I do; Out of breath and scared to death of you. Love was first divined, Then explored and defined, Still the old sensation is new; Out of breath and scared to death of you. It takes all the strength that I can call to my command, To hold your hand. I would speak at length About the love that should be made, But I'm afraid. Hercules and such Never bothered me much, All you have to do is say "Boo!" Out of breath and scared to death of you.
Yes, it's pretty simple, comic stuff, but it had flashes of wordplay and bouncy rhythm. It was perfect for the Garrick Gaieties revue of 1930.
One of the chorus girls left Johnny out of breath as well. Her name was Ginger Meehan and she was Bing Crosby's squeeze at the time. Eventually, Mercer won her over and they married in 1931 after Johnny secured a staff job writing lyrics. The following year, his persistent work paid off when he partnered with Hoagy Carmichael, already well-known for his sensational song, Stardust. After several months, the collaboration produced Lazybones, Mercer's first hit song. It was full of black dialect and all the stereotypical perceptions of the day.
By the time Lazybones became popular, the New York music industry was in full transition thanks, in part, to the rapidly growing film industry in California. Films needed songs and with his prospects cooling in New York, Mercer traveled to Hollywood where he met his old friend, Bing Crosby, who had already made the transition to the West. The early years were a challenge for Mercer, but that changed in 1936. That year, Crosby offered to sing one of Mercer's songs in the film, Rhythm on the Range. The film wasn't much. The song was a runaway hit:
I'm An Old Cowhand words and music by Johnny Mercer
I'm and old cowhand From the Rio Grande, But my legs ain't bowed And my cheeks ain't tanned. I'm a cowboy who never saw a cow, Never roped a steer 'cause I don't know how, And I sure ain't fixin' to start in now. Yippy I O Ki Ay, Yippy I O Ki Ay.
. . .
And I learned to ride 'Fore I learned to stand, I'm a ridin' fool who is up to date, I know ev'ry trail in the Lone Star State, 'Cause I ride the range in a Ford V-Eight
. . .
And I come to town Just to hear the band, I know all the songs that the cowboys know, 'Bout the big corral where the doagies go, 'Cause I learned them all on the radio.
. . .
Where the West is wild 'Round the borderland, Where the buffalo roam around the Zoo, And the Indians make you a rug or two, And the old Bar X is a Bar B Q. Yippy I O Ki Ay, Yippy I O Ki Ay.
I think Mercer came into perfect form with this one. With a little help from his pal, Crosby, his name became associated with songwriting among Hollywood's shakers and makers. In these early years, he struggled through a few flop movies, but he learned the ins and outs of Hollywood, and continued writing poetry to music.
Mercer went on to great fame after I'm An Old Cowhand. Movies, records, and radio brought his folksy, common sense, "free and easy, that's my style" personality into homes across America and made him a beloved next door neighbor. Mercer could be serious with a lyric, but he was equally capable of making us laugh at our selves and our circumstances. Here are two outstanding examples:
I'd say almost every American can hum the title line of Hooray for Hollywood, but it's the rest of lyric that really sparkles. Here's the song as it appeared in Busby Berkeley's 1937 blockbuster hit, Hollywood Hotel. If you don't want to miss any words, the lyric is below.
Hooray For Hollywood
words by Johnny Mercer music by Richard A. Whiting
Hooray for Hollywood! That screwy bally hooey Hollywood, Where any office boy or young mechanic Can be a panic, With just a good looking pan, And any bar maid Can be a star maid, If she dances with or without a fan,
Hooray for Hollywood! Where you're terrific if you are even good, Where anyone at all from Shirley Temple To Aimee Semple Is equally understood, Go out and try your luck, You might be Donald Duck! Hooray for Hollywood!
Hooray for Hollywood! That phoney super Coney Hollywood, They come from Chilicothes and Paducahs With their bazookas To get their names up in lights, All armed with photos from local rotos, With their hair in ribbons and legs in tights,
Hooray for Hollywood! You may be homely in your neighborhood, But if you think that you can be an actor, See Mister Factor, He'd make a monkey look good. Within a half an hour, You'll look like Tyrone Power! Hooray for Hollywood!
Over three decades Mercer wrote the lyrics to hundreds of songs, collaborating with the country's top music writers, including Harold Arlen, Bernie Hannigan, Hoagy Carmichael, Harry Warren, Gene DePaul, Henry Mancini, Jerome Kern, Rube Bloom, and Matty Malneck. In 1971, Mercer appeared in what he called a "parlor evening" performance as part of the 92nd Street Y's Lyrics and Lyricists Series. At the end of the program, Mercer delivered an unforgettable medley of his "bread and butter" songs. I'd say most songwriters and performers would be pleased to have five songs in such a list. Mercer had twenty-nine. Regardless of your age and interest in popular music, you may be surprised at how many of these songs you recognize:
Lazybones (1933), music by Hoagy Carmichael
Goody, Goody (1936), music by Marty Malneck
Too Marvelous For Words (1937), music by Richard A. Whiting
Jeepers Creepers (1938), music by Harry Warren
Satin Doll (1958), written with Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn
You Must Have Been A Beautiful Baby (1938), music by Harry Warren
That Old Black Magic (1943), music by Harold Arlen
Accentuate the Positive (1944) music by Harold Arlen
Fools Rush In (1940), music by Rube Bloom
I Remember You (1942), music by Victor Schertzinger
Day In - Day Out (1939), music by Rube Bloom
Dearly Beloved (1942), music by Jerome Kern
Come Rain or Come Shine (1946), music by Harold Arlen
Tangerine (1942), music by Victor Schertzinger
Hooray For Hollywood (1938), music by Richard A. Whiting
Laura (1945), music by David Raksin
Dream (1944), words and music by Johnny Mercer
On the Atcheson, Topeka and the Santa Fe (1946, Academy Award for Best Music, Original Song), music by Harry Warren
Something's Gotta Give (1954), words and music by Johnny Mercer
One For My Baby (1943), music by Harold Arlen
In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening (1951, Academy Award for Best Music, Original Song), music by Hoagy Carmichael
Skylark (1941), music by Hoagy Carmichael
Autumn Leaves (1950), music by Joseph Kosma
I Wanna Be Around (1962), words and music by Johnny Mercer and Sadie Vimmerstedt
Blues in the Night (1941), music by Harold Arlen
Charade (1963), music by Henry Mancini
Summer Wind (1965), music by Henry Mayer
Moon River (1961, Academy Award for Best Music, Original Song), music by Henry Mancini
Days of Wine and Roses (1962, Academy Award for Best Music, Original Song), music by Henry Mancini
That's plenty of "bread and butter" on one man's plate, but we need to keep in mind that he had seven more songs nominated for an Academy Award that never made it into the medley. What a talent.
If you're curious to learn even more about Mercer, your minimal immersion requires three books, one website, and one audio disk.
THE BOOKS:
A good starting point is, Johnny Mercer: The Life, Times and Song Lyrics of Our Huckleberry Friend. It was collected and edited by television producer Bob Bach and Ginger Mercer, Johnny's widow. There's nothing scholarly about it. It is simply a nostalgic look at Mercer's career through photos, letters, notes, sheet music covers, lyrics, and tributes. Photos are always worth their thousand words, and the book gives readers the chance to study the lyrics to almost 100 Mercer songs. One highlight is the publication of the texts of four Christmas greeting cards. In two of them, Johnny worked his lyrical magic using all the surnames on his card list. The book concludes with incomplete lists of his published songs and motion picture contributions.
Philip Furia takes a more scholarly approach to Mercer in his book, Skylark: The Life and Times of Johnny Mercer. This book is a well-balanced treatment of a life characterized by great success as well as trouble and torment. It is well known that Mercer could be not only a gentleman and generous friend when sober, but also a vicious drunk who frequently sent roses to his victims the day after his verbal assaults. But Furia is at his best analyzing the process of songwriting, devoting many pages to a single song, and detailing the origin and evolution of the lyric. If you want to skip the nostalgia and go straight to reading a very good biography, Furia has written your book.
Gene Lees was a music biographer, lyricist and jazz historian who was a personal friend of Mercer's beginning around 1950. He brings more of a Hollywood insider perspective to the Mercer story, and does so with an entertaining, informal style. If this is what you look for in a biography, then Portrait of Johnny: The Life and Times of John Herndon Mercer is your book. The book doesn't have Furia's tight organization, but it is full of personal recollections and opinions from scores of close friends and associates. The high point for me is the author's extensive use of direct quotes from Mercer's unpublished autobiography. On the other hand, Lees gives his readers almost too much detail on Ginger Mercer as the terror in her family's life. Some readers may say the book is more of a layman's psychological analysis than a true biography. Regardless, it provides a nice balance to Furia's book in spite of the duplication.
THE WEBSITE:
If you want to use the Internet as a source of information on Johnny Mercer, there is no better site than the Johnny Mercer Foundation/Educational Archives. The home page may look a bit plain, but don't let that fool you; the links open windows to hundreds of pages of media.
THE AUDIO CD:
You can find scores of audio CDs featuring the songwriting and singing talent of Johnny Mercer. For me there is one essential CD and an "honorable mention." The essential is An Evening With Johnny Mercer, the 92nd Street Y Lyrics and Lyricists program Mercer did in 1971. I think it's a great hour to spend with the man and his music.
The "honorable mention" is Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Johnny Mercer Songbook. Fitzgerald's brilliant eight-album Songbook Series was recorded between 1956 and 1964, at the height of her vocal quality. The Mercer tribute is included here because of her near-perfect diction - you do want to hear the words - the fact that Mercer was the only lyricist honored in the Songbook Series.
I have provided you with some details about Mercer's life, his contribution to American popular music, and best of all, several examples of his words and music. In addition, for those interested in learning more about him, I listed several sources in a variety of formats. There's plenty more to know. If you do pick up a book or check out a website, you'll find that Mercer was both the source of the idea and a founding member of Capitol Records. You'll also read that he was extraordinarily generous. You'll also find out that, almost throughout his life, the fame and fortune came at great personal cost. That seems to be the rule. Still, Mercer's gap-toothed smile and performance talent brought pleasure to millions of Americans during the mid-century.
It has now been more than a generation since Mercer's death in 1976. He may be gone, but that mountain of music and the ideas he left behind are very much alive and well. Mercer stays with Great American Songbook and jazz enthusiasts through the singers and organizations that keep his music and legacy alive. Here is a list of past and present singers
THE SINGERS:
Margaret Whiting (Long associated with Mercer as a performer and family friend, she was a most significant individual promoter of Mercer's music late in her life.)
That just about covers my Mercer tribute for 2013. I want to end with three favorite Mercer lyrics that have become embedded in our culture as Great American songs and jazz standards over their sixty years. They are:
Midnight Sun
Lionel Hampton and Sonny Burke wrote Midnight Sun in 1954 as an instrumental and had a big hit with it. The story goes that Mercer heard the tune on the freeway heading to his office. By the time he got there, he had the lyric. Ella Fitzgerald has "owned" this song for fifty years.
Your lips were like a red and ruby chalice warmer than the summer night The clouds were like an alabaster palace rising to a snowy height Each star its own aurora borealis suddenly you held me tight I could see the midnight sun.
Early Autumn
Early Autumn was composed in 1949 by Ralph Burns and Woody Herman.
When an early autumn walks the land and chills the breeze And touches with her hand the summer trees, Perhaps you'll understand what memories I own. There's a dance pavilion in the rain all shuttered down, A winding lane all russet brown A frosty window pane shows me a town grown lonely.
Laura
In 1944, the film, Laura, appeared with a theme song composed by David Raskin. The next year Mercer added the haunting lyrics.
Laura is the face in the misty lights, Footsteps that you hear down the hall. The laugh that floats on a summer night That you can never quite recall.
And you see Laura on the train that is passing through, Those eyes how familiar they seem. She gave your very first kiss to you That was Laura but she's only a dream.
If you do pick up a book or check out a website, you'll find that Mercer was quite a diverse personality. As a lyricist, composer, performer, businessman, and philanthropist, he shaped much of the American popular music industry for forty years, beginning in the mid 1930s. You'll also find that, almost throughout his life, the fame and fortune came at great personal cost. That seems to be the rule. Still, Mercer's gap-toothed smile and performance talent brought pleasure to millions of Americans during the mid-century. He's still with us in so many ways.
So happy birthday, Johnny. You're just about too marvelous for words.
References: Books by Bach and Mercer, Furia, and Lees; Johnny Mercer Foundation; Georgia State University Archives, and The Complete Lyrics of Johnny Mercer, by Kimball, Day. Kreuger and Davis.
