Category Archives: Library

Ella’s and Duke’s Sophisticated Lady

The Ella Fitzgerald version of this 1932 Duke Ellington classic (lyrics by Mitchell Parish) keeps running through my head:

They say into your early life romance came
And in this heart of yours burned a flame
A flame that flickered one day and died away

Then, with disillusion deep in your eyes
You learned that fools in love soon grow wise
The years have changed you, somehow
I see you now

Smoking, drinking, never thinking of tomorrow, nonchalant,
Diamonds shining, dancing, dining with some man in a restaurant
Is that all you really want?

No, sophisticated lady,
I know, you miss the love you lost long ago
And when nobody is nigh you cry

Quite a song. Especially the tune itself, the lyrics, and the way Ella does them. (Ignore the Julie Andrews video at the link above. The song hardly fits her. Just listen to Ella’s voice and the words.)

You’ve got mail!

Does anyone remember this phrase? Does any software still spew it amidst the piles of spam clogging most email accounts, including mine? AOL, I suppose.

I ran across it the other day in Neal Stephenson’s Quicksilver which made me laugh, it was so out of place, being spoken by a Seventeenth century master sergeant of foot to a prisoner in the Tower of London.

Quicksilver was published in 2003 when, I believe, the phrase was, more or less, still in common usage. Only seven years. My, how time doth fly.

Alizee: Rule 5

alizee-20080318-389936

The lovely French pop singer, whose onstage wiggles remind me of the young Elvis, though easier to look at. Can’t have too many snaps of her. She is, in this version the source of a third of our visits.

Blaenau-Ffycin-Ffestiniog

“…observed features of the [Martian] Melas Chasma look remarkably like Blaenau-Ffycin-Ffestiniog when viewed from the heavens.”

But it’s too late, Mrs. Charm’s beloved Wales and its ridiculous spelling have lost out in the Mars-comparison sweepstakes.

Still, there’s always Qwghlm. Minus the reefs, of course

The houlihan cowboys

“I ride an old Paint/Lead an old Dan/I’m goin’ to Montana/For to throw the hoolahan.” —lyrics of the traditional song Leaving Cheyenne.

The houlihan is a lasso throw used in various ways, on horses and calves, though it seems to have been designed to capture a fleeing wild horse by roping both its forelegs at the same time. Ideally, not to make it stumble and fall, but to slow it down and gradually turn it toward the roper.

“The houlihan is swung counter clock wise, opposite a traditional loop, and opened at the throw with the flick of an agile wrist. It was not an easy throw and required years of practice to perfect.”

Hollywood’s preferred neck-shot was considered too iffy by real cowboys. The horse could lower its head to escape the loop, or, in continuing to run without escaping, be injured by a loop around its neck. Although it would seem that catching its forelegs might cause it to fall and break its neck.

Leaving Cheyenne, of course, is also a novel, one of my favorite Larry McMurtry pre-Lonesome Dove stories.

Why literary fiction is following the legacy media in decline

Because reading it:

“means that I don’t mind listening to people yapping incessantly about how terrible America is, and how terrible Bush is, and did you know America was once a slave-holding nation, and O what about the Native Americans, don’t forget them….

“and it means that I ought to covet urban apartments filled with fine objects and cool gadgets and unusual cookbooks that I won’t find on Amazon and no children, and it means that the best people know nothing whatever about cars or guns or tools or how to fix anything….”

Heh.

Heroes of The Alamo

alamoThis is their memorial on the south lawn of the Capitol downtown. It lists the names believed to be accurate when the thing was built in 1891. Steve Greenhow, an Austin radio personality and friend who died of cancer not so long ago, who yet lives (!), wrote a time-travel saga published as a serial on Austin’s old Electric Pages bulletin board. In the story, the memorial was used as a sort of Texas Tardis. Photo via the State Preservation Board.