Sketches from the Twin Cities: A Song Sung Red, White, and Blue

Geoffrey Dean, Sketches, Gustav Mahler, South Dakota Symphony Orchestra

War, Jazz, and The Star Spangled Banner

By Geoffrey Dean

Books with an implied musical “soundtrack” have always interested me, as some of my earlier posts on this blog will attest. So when I came across a new tome by E. Douglas Bomberger titled Making Music American: 1917 and the Transformation of Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 2018), I knew I had a music-filled read in store. 1917 was the year that jazz made its sensational first appearance in New York City and on records, with the Original Dixieland “Jass” Band’s “Livery Stable Blues.” It was also the year that the US entered World War I, making the presence of music by Wagner, Beethoven, and other German composers on concert programs increasingly controversial and the appearance of jazz on the national scene a timely diversion. The Star Spangled Banner, not yet the official our national anthem, became in 1917 a source of heated debate: should it be played, and if so, where, how, and by whom?

For Humans Life Can Be Very Humbling

By Dr. Ely Lazar & Dr. Adele Thomas

[Republished here by permission of the authors from their “Lifestyle Tips for Over 50s,” affiliated with their website “Passionate Retirees,” January 31, 2019.]

“It’s not the years in your life that count, but the life in your years.”

Boldt Words & Images:In memory of Regula Zeller

Regula Zeller (1948-82)

For Day of the Dead 2018

By Bob Boldt

Readers of my short story “Let Me Help You with That” [published here on January 30, 2016] have already been introduced to the artist Regula Zeller, who was my artistic collaborator and lover, now nearly half a century ago. We experimented on a number of film multimedia and graphics projects. I recently retrieved from storage a portfolio of her work I almost forgot I had. It was close to All Hallows Eve, and I had a dream in which Regula appeared, young, beautiful, and erotic. The dream inspired the audiovisual poem “A High Coup Calavera #5,” my annual Calavera poem in honor of Day of the Dead, which I dedicated to the artist:

The Loneliest Liberal:Listening to Frank

By James Knudsen

It’s not well known that theatre can be a hazardous profession. I use the word “profession” in the broadest sense, as it rarely results in monetary compensation. but I will refer to the time I spend on stage as a profession in order to stand in solidarity with my fellow actors who trod the boards and collect a paycheck. Hazards come in all forms. Physical, such as the disc in my lower back that was pushed out of position from catching a dancer incorrectly or the bump on the head from a piece of falling scenery I was helping to strike. The heart is also at risk. Show-mances are an everpresent danger and, given the volatile nature of actors, of either gender, are rarely advised. And the less said about my personal experience on that the better. There is a third hazard, one I never saw coming: discovering an unpleasant truth about the character you’ve grown to know and love.

Fiction: How the Wild Came to Rest (a short story)

Author’s portrait painted
by Jane B. Mudd

By Bob Boldt

Mike Magliano exuded an air of motorcycle-jacket danger, ducktailed sexuality, and the scent of felony made all the stronger by how little we actually knew about him. He just showed up at the beginning of my sophomore year at Naperville Community High School unannounced and unexpected.

So many interesting spam

Really its great

By Moristotle

I moderated a slab of spam this morning that could serve for breakfast. Here it is, minus its link to whatever:

Exploring the Pyrenees, Part IV:In Barcelona

Detmar’s selfie of us on the bus
(see near bottom below)

By James T. Carney

From Berga we were all driven to the Barcelona airport, where Detmar and I took leave of our traveling companions and headed downtown to spend the rest of the day and the next two days touring Barcelona, which probably has the world’s biggest collection of pickpockets and thieves in Europe. In one restaurant, we witnessed a woman who had gone to the restroom return to her table only to discover that her purse had been stolen.

Exploring the Pyrenees, Part III-B: Following the Cathars in the Bellver de Cerdanya & Gósol areas

By James T. Carney

The third day was supposed to be the most difficult of the hike, so I decided to take the van to Bellver de Cerdanya, and Julie and Peter opted to go with me. Bellver de Cerdanya is in a major valley, with good farmland, in the Pyrenees, which differs from the Alps in having many fertile valleys. (The Cathars at one point had destroyed one of the orthodox churches in the area, which suggests that the area was strongly pro-Cathar.)

Siegfried:A personality like no other dog

By André Duvall

Morris and Carolyn’s love and affection for Siegfried was always so tangible whenever I came to visit them, and whenever I read anything posted about Siegfried on Moristotle & Co. I am very sorry that Siegfried is no longer there. I have many memories of visiting with him during my several trips to Mebane.

Ten Years Ago Today:Wally left us too

Wally’s last photo,
taken on February 22, 2009

Wally Dean:
May 19, 1996 –
March 9, 2009

By Moristotle

[An announcement of Wally’s passing was published on March 9, 2009.]

As March arrived, I was mindful that it was the month, ten years ago, that Siegfried came to us, following by less than a week the passing of another canine Dean Family member, Wally.

Poetry & Portraits: Toby

Drawing by Susan C. Price

Toby
By Eric Meub

[Originally published on October 12, 2013]

Of course you’ll dine on anything: Good Dog.
What is the world to you but meat and grog?
According to philosophy you chew
because you’re finite: that’s what finite systems do.

Siegfried Dean: January 24, 2009 – March 8, 2019

This photo of Siegfried
will continue to be my phone’s
wallpaper for some time

Words cannot suffice

By Moristotle

Siegfried left us this afternoon, after a few weeks of pain, growing weakness, skin surgeries, X-rays, blood tests, urinalysis, pain relievers, antibiotics, loss of appetite – through all of which he remained our sweet, uncomplaining, loving and lovable, constant companion. And we are at a loss.

Fiction: Finsoup (a novel) [47]

Whatever Happened to Charlie?;
Top Shark Conservation Organizations;
Acknowledgments;
About the Author

By edRogers

[Reviewed here on the novel’s publication day, October 6, 2018: “Coming soon to a Barnes & Noble store near you?”]

Postscript: Whatever Happened to Charlie?

I’m Juan Reyes. My family and I sold our house and moved into Margot Rosenburg’s home, which was deeded to me by a mutual friend. Thanks to that friend, my kids are both at the University. My son is studying to become a lawyer and my daughter a doctor. For once in my life, we caught a good break.

Exploring the Pyrenees, Part III-A: Following the Cathars in the Comus and Mérens-les-Vals areas

Photo by Detmar

By James T. Carney

From Montségur we hiked to Comus, along a path that was probably used by the Cathars, since many of them did travel by way of Comus, which is now a very small village of maybe 1,000 people.

Penny for Her Thoughts: First USA anniversary

After crossing the pond permanently

By Penelope Griffiths

March is an anniversary month for me. Almost a whole year ago I packed up all of my worldly goods in Wales and sent them on their journey across the pond.

Fiction: Finsoup (a novel) [46]

The Door Closes

By edRogers

[Reviewed here on the novel’s publication day, October 6, 2018: “Coming soon to a Barnes & Noble store near you?”]

Charlie awoke from a bad dream. Sweat covered his body, and his hands were shaking. A horrible smell assaulted his senses. He jumped from the chair, his mind still trapped in the nightmare, and fell to his knees, with great sobs shaking his body.

Exploring the Pyrenees, Part II:In the Languedoc

By James T. Carney

On my way to the Pyrenees last September, I flew to Marseilles (the most crime-ridden city in Europe) to visit my first cousin, Bruce, who is an expatriate and has lived abroad all of his adult life – first as a petroleum engineer, second as an executive for a company running a worldwide chain of shoe-repair shops, and finally as an auditor for a hotel in Nîmes, in the Languedoc, to which he commuted by train from his wife’s ancestral home in Alès.