A Good Day
The chainsaw didn't arrive, so I used a large hacksaw on the felled tree's thick branches. Nice upper body workout. I have fresh respect for those in lumberjack competitions.
The dense humidity slowed me down, though. Twenty-five in my head but not in my legs. Doused myself with cold water after each branch broke away, splintered ends snapping quickly up. Dragged the things to the other side of the yard where they now sit, lush green brush waiting to be cleared. But I have no respect for presidents who do that, especially with the cameras rolling.
Had a light lunch of baguette pieces, sharp cheddar, and ripe tomato slices seasoned with ground pepper, salt and vinegar. Watched with the daughter part of the VH1 TV movie "Daydream Believers" about the rise and fall of The Monkees. Dreadful script, but the actors playing the pre-fab four were energetic and passable. The daughter asked about The Monkees' cultural relevance, if any, and we discussed the phenomenon of boy bands and whether or not one could find something of value in all that gloss and distraction. Being soft on The Monkees, I gave them a pass of sorts, while not being completely uncritical. Then I bemoaned the fact that I sat across the aisle from Peter Tork on a flight from LA to New York, and never approached the guy to chat. The daughter rolled her eyes. "Yeah Perrin, I know. You've told me this story before."
Quite.
Taking the advice of my wife and those of you who wrote in after yesterday's post, I've gone NO WAR! today -- just peeked at headlines to see that nothing's changed and is probably getting worse. It's nice to relax for once, though living deep in an imperial country, I have that luxury, unlike those running for their lives thanks in part to my and our tax dollars. The concern some of you showed in the past 24 truly touched me. Thanks. I'll be back to the grind next week, though I'm gonna focus on other topics, as promised. Did you know that I wrote a book about a humorist? And another one about sports? It's true! I've even placed punchlines in the mouths of comics and, yes, politicians. Funny how a little thing like Middle East war can grab you by the throat and pull you under the bloody water. I mean, it is funny, right?
Some music before I go.
I'm not a big Moody Blues fan, but this clip of them performing "Tuesday Afternoon" live on some show in the late-60s is in my head and I can't get it out. Not that I want to.
And here's NWA with their classic "Express Yourself" (remember when hip hop sampled Motown licks?). I played this once on WBAI New York when I hosted FAIR's weekly show, and the phonelines jammed with old lefties howling about "rap crap" and demanding to know why a media critic was broadcasting this. It's all in the song, sisters & brothers.
And finally -- The Monkees, from their album "Headquarters" on which they played their own instruments, "Randy Scouse Git," an anti-war song written and sung by Micky Dolenz.
Hey hey -- see you Mon.
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