To thine own self be true

(1973-1975: Betty Plus Four–one of several bands I led and fronted over the decades. In my early years of teaching, we played weekends for thousands of people in Northeastern Alberta, about 200 gigs. My hairful years! The other guys worked at CFB Cold Lake so moustaches were their limit. Note also my velvet bowtie, shirt-front-and- wrist-ruffled dress shirt, and the 1973ish Gibson ES335 TD I still play today.)

After a break, playing guitar and doing vocals once more. New cool distortion pedal bought today, used on about 1/3 of my songs. Tremolo pedal used on another 1/3. Regular chorus pedal on the other 1/3. 3 different electric sounds through a Marshall amp. Plus 2 other acoustic sounds from a Yamaha 12 string and a Marr-Mackenzie ltd. ed. Tofino 6-string. I’m using, as well at times, a tambourine played with my left foot, in addition to a 1990ish SR16 drum machine which approximates bass sounds, too. One-man-band stuff. (How many guys did you say were playing in the basement?) The music still ranges from folk to folk-rock to country to rock. Many different sounds along with my impersonated voices–Dylan, John Lennon, et al. Ye olde gift of music still intact and goin` strong.

This is the church.

This is the steeple.

Open the doors and see all the people.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

…………………………………….

The opening lines of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.

Our time, of course. August 2014 A.D. Literary relevance at its best. Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose.”–Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

(excerpt from “Hung up on a Dream”, by Rod Argent, classic Zombies Odessey and Oracle album, 1968)

A sweet confusion filled my mind
Until I woke up only finding everything was just a dream
A dream unusual of its kind
That gave me peace and blew my mind
And now I’m hung up on a dream…

…………………
In the end, “It’s all about” mind, imagination, memory, dream, wish-fulfillment, ideals, goals, fantasy, inner life, especially of the pleasant variety, even as our exterior selves and worlds change, decline, or diminish. I thought today how fortunate I am to revisit, easily and naturally at the drop of a hat, just about any scene from my past in detail. Likewise, to immerse in and fully savour the present moment, and easily imagine the more pleasant possibilities of personal future.

Life has often been compared to dream and there are many such songs and poems on this theme. For me, the dream has long epitomized myriad positive possibilities, and how easily these are to actualize, especially with the accompanying feeling of freedom and enjoyment. One of the biggest compliments I ever had occurred when I was teaching; a staff member had read something I’d written and spontaneously gushed, “Why you’re a dreamer!”, and I thought to myself, “Yes, that is most what I am, have been and will always be.” I am and have been long opposed to the limits, limitations, and fears of many others as well as many contexts and processes. I have never chosen to live my life that way. I have called my shots way more often than not, and my dreams are my choices, my freedoms, my best.

Easy. Joni Mitchell. Proof: her exquisite, mature, 2 CD Travelogue album (2002). Highly recommended jazzy soundscapes.

Nuanced voice. Pleasant to listen to. A truly jazzy interpreter-performer-songwriter.

…………………

Further: Top female folksinger-songwriter of all time. Biggest catalogue of original material.  First significant, original folk-guitar-tunings of all time. The most poetic female folksong-writer of all time. First female singer to illustrate her own albums with her own paintings (see above album cover). A multi-media artist as well. Mitchell was the first significant female singer Canada ever produced. One of the top recording artists and performers of the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s.

(Johnny Clegg signed photo in person, Winspear, 2011 Human Tour)

And your life is a story like the wind
And your life is a story like the wind…
–“Great Heart”, Johnny Clegg

(re.Kirk Douglas’s 2009 1-man-performance-art-show)

A very moving autobiographical artifact of his life. He had previously written 3 books about his life in conjunction with what he called his 1996 `stroke of luck`, but this was a filmed recording of his live performance. In his 90s, when this was made, he still had his chops, his positive attitude, his humor, and perspective.

There are many moving anecdotes about his early childhood as the one son of a Jewish ragman, times when there was not much food, when he crossed his father, and his mother`s stories. Along the way, Douglas shows film clips and slides, many unique and unexpected of people he has known and his film accomplishments, as well as more honest, poignant moments such as the drug-related suicide of his son Eric, his own near-gun-in-mouth-suicide averted because of a toothache, and the statue in his yard of what he calls his best friend–the ragman`s horse killed in a deliberately-set fire. One of his oft-forgotten efforts was his fearless ending of the Hollywood-McCarthy blacklist by naming convicted Dalton Trumbo as the screenplay writer of Spartacus.

The anecdotes about his actor-friends–Gregory Peck, Lauren Bacall, Frank Sinatra, and Ava Gardner– range from pathetic to insightful and amusing. If there`s a symbol for his character, it is the sculpture of Tveye from Fiddler on the Roof, dancing on his house`s rooftop entrance. Douglas seems quite happy with his more limited life and is a model to anyone who has had a near-fatal medical episode or anyone interested in seeing how someone (famous) embraces his handicap and remaining life. (*I would consider the speech impediment element here to be as strongly and positively portrayed as in The King`s Speech.)

Most interesting of all, perhaps, is/was his desire to be loved by his totally self-absorbed father, and Douglas’s own desire to be loved by his children, despite his own neglect and failings as a father.

About the only thing I didn`t like were his two mentions–in conjunction with God–of his success and `money`. Sure, it be nice to have some dough and one should be thankful for whatever luck and good fortune, but the mammon reference tied with divine sanction felt a little strange after so many wonderful moments in this TCM movie channel feature which is well-worth seeing in any case.

(inscription from the 1898 book discussed below, with the signature pawprint of the author)

If you’re at all like me, you likely find it hard to identify with the primitive violence daily ongoing in other parts of the world, never mind the domestic and public violence closer to home here in North America. Something inside says, “This is incredibly stupid ignorant stuff and totally unnecessary.” Too, there is a strong cynicism about politics and agendas that inevitably lead to the Putin bully-tyrants and national conflicts of the world. The inner voice again says, “This is madness. This is absurd. There is nothing I can practically do to stop this violence and war, be it planned or arbitrary (as in people killing each other, even strangers, on the streets, now more common in Canada).

Violence is a very far-ranging, far-reaching word and concept. We each of us have to face its fact and make choices along the way as the great naturalist-author Ernest Seton-Thompson did at the turn of the previous century in his classic The Trail of the Sandhill Stag, set in the Carberry Hills west of Winnipeg (where I’m from. Even today, deer run wild in that area along the Trans-Canada highway at dark times of the day year-long.)

In the following excerpts from the ending of this animal classic, the young Yan has finally come face-to-face with the great stag he has hunted and sought to kill. What happens to him parallels Seton-Thompson’s own great change in his attitude toward animals and hunting, and why he began his conservationist career.

“At last–at last, his life was in Yan’s hands. The Stag flinched not, but stood and gazed with those great ears and mournful, truthful eyes, and the rifle leaped but sank again, for the Stag stood still and calmly looked him in the eyes….A change came over him, and every thought of murder went from Yan as they gazed into each other’s eyes–and hearts. Yan could not look him in the eyes and take his life, and different thoughts and a wholly different concept of the Stag, coming, coming–long coming–had come.
Oh beautiful creature! One of our wise men has said, the body is the soul made visible; is your spirit then so beautiful–as beautiful as wise? We have long stood as foes, hunter and hunted, but now that is changed and we stand face to face, fellow creatures looking in each other’s eyes, not knowing each other’s speech–but knowing motives and feelings. Now I understand you as I never did before; surely you at least in part understand me. For your life is at least in my power, yet you have no fear….you…I have run down and you boldly seek safety with me. Yes! you are as wise as you are beautiful, for I will never harm a hair of you. We are brothers….if only my strength could always be at hand to save you, you would never come to harm. Go now without fear, to range the piney hills; never more shall I follow your trail with the wild wolf rampant in my heart….I may never see you again. But if only you would come sometimes and look me in the eyes and make me feel as you have done to-day, you would drive the wild beast wholly from my heart, and then the veil would be a little drawn and I should know more of the things that wise men have prayed for knowledge of. And yet I feel it never will be –I have found the Grail. I have learned what Buddha learned. I shall never see you again. Farewell.”

Would that all the people on Earth who hold the wild beast in their hearts learn likewise to let go it as Seton-Thompson did, and stop the killing and wars. Would that others could, similarly realize the potential beauty of others, and the possibility of communication and peaceful communion with others who are different from them. Would that the warring peoples of the planet and those who would do violence unto others, especially the innocents, would have see themselves in their victims and enemies. Would that the violent ones might experience the Grail wisdom and gentle knowledge that Yan finds at the end of Seton-Thompson’s book. Would that we all could become, even briefly, Buddha beings with a sense of the peace that passeth understanding.

(rare, signed limited edition page of my World of Tennessee Williams, an illustrated biography)

“I have a life in my body, this dead tree, my body, has burst in flower! You’ve given me life. You can go!”–Lady to Val

The Fugitive Kind a.k.a. Orpheus Descending is a powerful, highly literate play and movie directed by the late great Sidney Lumet (The Verdict, Dog Day Afternoon, 12 Angry Men, A Long Day’s Journey into Night, Network). It stars Marlon Brando as a cool, principled, wandering, guitar player in a symbolic snakeskin jacket. He finds work as a clerk and lover of Lady (Anna Magnani), the used wife of a dry goods store owner-vicious, jealous husband (Victor Jory) spoiler— who killed her father and his and her paradisical cantina dreams.

Joanne Woodward flits through this hotbed as a trashy slut who wants to possess Val; she effectively goes beyond her Three Faces of Eve bad persona performance. Maureen Stapleton is also effective as Vee, the creative compassionate wife of the nasty Town sheriff (R.G. Armstrong).

Williams explores several familiar themes in this poetically primitive Deep South tragedy including Jim Crow racism, politically incorrect violence toward women, and the hope, determination, and failure to find peace and love in an ugly, brutal human world. The play is also, simultaneously, about the hope and failure of the American dream.

One of the most unusual, well-done movies you’ll ever see with deliberate, skillful black-and-white cinematography, lighting, and editing. But above all else, an actor’s-movie showcasing bravura performances.

“Nobody ever gets to know no body! We’re all of us sentenced to solitary confinement inside of our skins for life.”–Val to Lady

(for anyone who is or was a teacher, and for anyone who knows one)

Today as we reach toward the apex of summer, there are many nervous mornings out there. The last week of July. Gulp! And when the calendar month flips, a distinct sense of fear, panic, and frenzy as teachers realize that their brief illusion of freedom is vanishing much more quickly than they had hoped or planned in June.

And when the newness of the school year in early September fades with the realization and noisy reality of 10 months of relative confinement, incarceration, and The End of any extended personal freedom, teachers quickly come to mourn their continuous contracts and the nonstop life of clock-watching, marking, report cards, insufferable pointless meetings, and foisted extra-curricular expectations.

Well, there is such a thing as having it rubbed in one’s face ad nauseam. But those who’ve been and are can, nonetheless, feel the chains beginning to tighten as August 1 looms, what is for many the truly final free week of summer. A palpable panic and the sense of being tied to a rather loaded, runaway circus-wagon rolling driverless off a steep cliff. No, there is no turning back. `Tis the beginning of the end. Again.