Category Archives: Rancho Roly Poly

My Tinnitus rises a notch

I’ve had Tinnitus, a ringing in the ears, since I came home from the Vietnam War in 1970. Although it can have several medical origins, I’ve always attributed it to months of being in close proximity to the staccato noise of machine guns and automatic rifles.

Last night I was awaked by what sounded like the steady release of compressed air, or maybe steady rain on the roof. It was so loud that I got up and walked around the dark rancho to see if I could find the source. It wasn’t raining so perhaps it was a break in a water pipe or the natural gas line that feeds the water heater and the stove? Apparently not.

I finally realized it was probably my Tinnitus acting up and I went back to sleep. When I awoke the noise was still there, still sounding like sleet through the limbs of trees or a broken gas line. As it probably will be from now on, an escalation in the old problem that is more of a curiosity to me than anything else.

Early morning violin practice

Was tuning up my violin this morning, partly because I enjoy playing in the morning and partly because it helps get Mr. B. out of bed and on the way to school.

Then I launched into the strains of the new Scottish ballad I’m learning

How’d you like waking up to “My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose”?, I asked Mrs. C later.

She replied: “At first, just at first you understand, I thought it was the garbage truck.”

Well, it was garbage pickup day. But still….

Hector the Hero

This Scottish lament, a pretty song which I recently learned to play on the violin, has a curious history to go along with its curious title.

It was composed in 1903 by Scottish fiddler J. Scott Skinner to honor a friend—a Scottish general in the British army who was publically accused of homosexuality with boys. Which is pedophilia rather than homosexuality, but folks weren’t drawing distinctions in those days, and homosexual sex was illegal. You could go to prison for it.

A government commission later exonerated him but it was too late for the general.  He had promptly killed himself— either confirming the accusation or simply acknowledging that his name would be forever besmirched.

“Lament him, ye mountains of Ross-shire;
Your tears be the dew and the rain;
Ye forests and straths, let the sobbing winds
Unburden your grief and pain.”

 

Scottish Shetland fiddlers Jenna Reid and Aly Bain play a nice version of it here. Needless to say my own version (so far minus their good vibrato and delicate sustained bowing) is rather robotic, but, hey, I’m working on it.

Science Fiction Recommendations

I’ve finished several new ones lately, some I’ve reviewed at Amazon and others I haven’t, either for lack of time or indecision about how to put my conclusions about them. Even when I enjoyed them as much as I did these.

Ashes of Candesce seems to be the end of an incredibly imaginative five-part series. Count to A Trillion is another dandy, also a far-future story, that won’t lose your interest.

Then, there’s Night Trains, a time-travel tale, the sort of thing I don’t normally read but I’m glad I read this one. And Chronospace, another time-traveler. Hmm. I guess I do read them.

And, of course, there’s In The Lion’s Mouth, the latest installment of an absorbing Celtic space-opera series. And, while you’re at it, don’t miss Permanence, more far-future story-telling worth your time.

Or you could take the more classic, Instapundit recommendations route.

Betty Brosmer: Rule 5

Nope, we never tire of Betty around here at the rancho. Well, not me.

Wallace Hartley’s violin

It looks fat enough in the photographs to be a viola, but it’s doubtful the folks at Strings would have missed that detail—even though its “discovery” has been announced several times in the past two decades. Nevertheless, it does now seem to be the actual fiddle that went down with the Titanic.

Well, not down down. It was found strapped to the chest of Wallace Hartley, apparently the bandmaster of the ship’s 8-man strings ensemble, who was found dead on the surface. He had famously led them in playing soothing music on the foredeck before it slipped into the icy North Atlantic. I suppose none of the other instruments survived. There’s even—you guessed it—a new book about it. Hundredth anniversary, after all.

And what brings me to this subject? Partly my subscription to Strings and also my now 2-hour practice days, following the guidance of Carl Flesch in his famous (to violinists) The Art of Violin Playing. It seems to be working, though I’m still unable to play anything entirely mistake-free. I’m increasingly interested, though, in pretty much all things violin.

Shock diamonds

SpaceX’s new rocket motor (for propulsive landings, just like the ones in the scifi stories) has “shock diamonds” in its plume. The phenom was first seen in the 1950s in the exhaust plume of the Bell X-1, the first craft to fly faster than the speed of sound. The “diamonds” are more visible in this video of the motor’s recent test firing (below) in McGregor, Texas, just up the road from the rancho.