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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 19, 2012 - 12:46pm PT
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Not today. I cannot leave my son alone for that long. Neither he nor I have a telephone at this point so he has no way of calling anyone for help if he needs it. So I am sticking close to home. You will be hearing an archived show today. Sorry. Hopefully by next week I will be back at it.
I don't want to make this sound like an arduous task. I adore Ariel and he is a joy to be with. We enjoy a lot of the same things and we love to talk about books and Ken Burn's documentaries, politics, etc. He teaches me so many things.
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 19, 2012 - 04:29pm PT
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Hah - just as I thought.
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 19, 2012 - 06:03pm PT
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This guy wasn't officially in the Flames, but here he is
12-10-1965 San Diego Civic Theater
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 19, 2012 - 06:21pm PT
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The Rev was understandably bored. The "adventures" were just mundane, the sex was passe, and the centerfold is missing.
The Protocols of the Mice from Merced is far more didactic.
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 19, 2012 - 11:22pm PT
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Taken in an ancient chestnut forest in Corsica
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 20, 2012 - 12:00am PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 05:32am PT
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This is a great spot for this. Dead Center.
Norwegian, this'n's fer u. Happy New Year, feller.
Provided to us per Throwpie.
When you're dead...
When you’re dead you’ll get to do everything you didn’t have time
to do while you were alive.
You’ll finally have time to yourself, you must promise
to become very selfish.
I see before me: ”Don’t think I intend just to sit
here and rot.”
Finally you get to tell the president and the minister of defense
what you think of them.
Not to mention your wife, who ”stole your life.”
You’ll be free as the gull you loved to watch
through the window of the sauna.
You’ll circle the globe and visit other exotic
places.
For God’s sake, marry the miller’s daughter, that was
always your secret wish.
You’ve begun your elocution lessons by correspondence, your
mouth full of stones like the great masters.
Toward fall you’ll compose a string quartet for grass fire,
night frost, compost and sunset.
Like Wittgenstein you will learn to whistle all Schubert’s
lieder and symphonies except Alte Kameraden.
--CLAES ANDERSSON
Yeah, who need Alte Kameraden? Or Neue Freunde for that matter?
No Man Is An Island
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
--John Donne
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 08:48am PT
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Apocalypse manana. Vey pale yellow warning...
Others insist that Dylan later repudiated his Bible years as merely an unfortunate drug-fueled mistake.
http://iloveyoubutyouregoingtohell.org/2012/03/15/from-the-archives-the-bob-dylan-bible-apocalypse/
http://expectingrain.com/
The between-song "raps" were a fixture of Dylan's performances during his "Christian" period, but early during the Slow Train Coming tour, Dylan and his band encountered the most hostile, skeptical audience of the tour in Tempe, Arizona on November 26th, 1979.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75_ceACC7-o
"Let's all have fun...Let me hear ya say what God is...there's saved people and there's lost people."
Seen the arrow on the door post
Saying, "This land is condemned
All the way from New Orleans to Jerusalem"
I traveled through East Texas where many martyrs fell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell
Well, I heard that hoot owl singing
As they were taking down the tents
The stars above the barren trees
Were his only audience
Them charcoal gypsy maidens
Can strut their feathers well
But nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell
See them big plantations burning
Hear the cracking of the whips
Smell that sweet magnolia blooming
See the ghosts of slavery ships
I can hear them tribes moaning
Hear the undertaker's bell
Nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell
There's a woman by the river
With some fine young handsome man
He's dressed up like a squire
Bootlegged whiskey in his hand
There's a chain gang on the highway
I can hear them rebels yell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell
Well, God is in Heaven
And we all want what's His
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I'm gazing out the window
Of the St. James Hotel
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell
[Click to View YouTube Video]
The American Anti-Hero's Hero. Hands down. See how hip? PBR all the way.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 09:21am PT
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As I sit here in my internet bliss recalling days I lived and people I met and places I saw
I am listening to a pleasant blend of slidden steel over wires that have been taught things to say
In Japanese by a rock 'n roller from Santa Monica.
It's like WWII somehow never happened
Or the memories are shelved in favor of singing
Or we children of the holocaust actually paid attention to what they remembered.
It's just Christmas, I suppose.
I hope it's not that at all.
I hope it's something much much bigger.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Think of your fellow man
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little love in your heart
You see it's getting late
Oh, please don't hesitate
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Another day goes by
Still the children cry
Put a little love in your heart
If you want the world to know
We won't let hatred grow
Put a little love in your heart
And the world (and the world) will be a better place
All the world (all the world) will be a better place
For you (for you)
And me (and me)
You just wait (just wait)
And see, wait and see
Take a good look around
And if you're looking down
Put a little love in your heart
I hope when you decide
Kindness will be your guide
Put a little love in your heart
And the world (and the world) will be a better place
And the world (and the world) will be a better place
For you (for you)
And me (and me)
You just wait (just wait)
And see
People, now put a little love in your heart
Each and every day
Put a little love in your heart
There's no other way
Put a little love in your heart
It's up to you
Put a little love in your heart
C'mon and
FADE
Put a little love in your heart
Going out to my friend John, the Splitter, on whichever plane his feet are on today, you have given me much this year, have a Happy 2013 ad nauseum...till ya puke, that is...
And to my newest bud, Gene, come help me deck The Balls next year. Are you game, old bear?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 11:16am PT
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Royal Blue Alert! Climbing content on this page!!!!
This thread's worthless without photos!!!!
The S Face of Mt. Starr King, Mt. Satyr King*, and Mt. Starking*.
The day before we woke up in the woods in this tent I purchased from some fly-by-night outfit Jim and I dropped some of what was supposed to be LDO, but turned out to be some worthless powder, because my blues weren't as plaid as they had been on many a prior trip. Throwpie has an inkling of what I mean.
We were also in these strange puffy things. Pancas, panks, aprarancas, I can't remember. They helped keep us happy the next morning when we mellowly sipped coffee (hah!--we gulped that joe and high-tailed it into the sunlight) on the trail to Starr King, the real thing, at last.
When my family moved to Fitch Way in Sqacktomenko, we lived very near an elementary named for the Unitarian (?) divine, Mr. King. I always pictured Starr King in a cowgirl outfit when I was a punk kid, blame it on the afternoon movies on TV.
We got the idea that the way up was easy, but we soon found we didn't care what we did or how we got there. It was an ad hoc walk, pardon me, I didn't see that coming--it just happened.
Rambled around that old clown Starr King just Starking Mad in Love with Nature, Larking, Skylarking, no parking lots here in the wilderness of backyard Yosemite in November, just Larking Potheads.
This is one big advantage to living close by the Yo: If the weather's looking good enough you can give it a go at a moment's no, like we did--and we got lucky, I admit, hitting a long enough window. but you do have it over others who must drive from much further away. Like Tad H. But not Ed H. Or the Fresnoians.
Anyway, it seems to me we went straight up at the biggest of the gullies you see in the photos. We went up the main summit as soon as we could see an acceptable route. But we tried to do it in our hiking boots and it was hard, but doable, and we had no rope, so it was actually fourth class. We did have to psych ourselves. Layton wasn't there to tell us to just do the move and not think. In that respect, I remember reading Tom Cochrane's words about Kor telling him to just do the move and not think, just the other night. Loooks like it had some effect on me. thanks for that share, Tom.
This is how I would like to remember it, that we urged one another to give it the old college try, hang the cosequences, but I don't remember a thing, honestly, except that Jim did the moves first and that I needed to get it done, so it got done.
You can kind of tell how we felt by looking at the summit shots up-thread. It was one of the best days in the Sierra Nevada we had together. I guess we were blessed to be able to share so many and to become so close. Jim lost a brother to a childhood illness.
Thank you, Jim, for all the great times your photos have enabled us to share. Merry Christmas, Shirley Family!
*Colorful names used by some locals, i.e. the Flames.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 03:49pm PT
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Guamanian or Chamorro Christmas Carol/Ta Nge'nge Ta'Adora
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eCOFLj6H0R8
Adorable kindergarten class, brand new elementary school in NoSac, Orville Write Smellementary. I transferred to the brand new St. Ig the next year, sentened to learning Latin, whether or no.
The kid named David G. is the only one who went to St. Ig. He was the butcher's boy. Yep. We had a real live German butcher in the neighborhood. David and I were members of the same Cub Scout den.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 03:59pm PT
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The view from my window. The palm is blocking Mt. Clark, but I can see further south to Merced Peak.The view from the fifth floor fire escape landing.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 04:03pm PT
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These were all taken about ten a.m. from the fifth floor.
It's the Clark range. But you're thinking the Alps. The Po Valley. It's a Mediterranean climate. Make mine a doppio, per favore.
I could show you the photos in the other direction, but you'd lose your lunch. And we are going to Bella Luna, immediately.
Chow.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 20, 2012 - 06:48pm PT
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https://tayineurope.wordpress.com/category/food/vegetarian/
I just had a nice walk in the brisk cool air, a good lunch at Bella Luna, and a saunter back to Middle Earth.
They serve a mac 'n cheese with the works, ham, bacon, chives, that feeds two, so I had a Bloody Mary and thought about finishing it all. By the time I had finished I didn't want any more. Bagged it for dinner, bought a baguette fresh out of the oven, and went to the bookstore on the off-chance they had a decent WindIn the Willows for the grandkids. Nope. I wouldn't wipe my butt with the hard cover copy they have for way more than a roll of TP.
Alyssa understood, but told me about the Folio Society edition, which I mentioned. Hah! As if they'll ever get a copy here in Merced. Not very likely.
She ate some of my macaroni and bread to say she was sorry she didn't have what I wanted. She's the one that told me about BL's macaroni in the first place.
I found out a friend passed a few days back, John Guerra, who was a keyboard musician here and was born in Ecuador in '49 with his twin sis, Carol/RIP, and has a brother, Julio Guerra, who played in a group with our Flame, the Bullfrog, Mark McAllister. John went back to Ecuador in 1966 and played keyboard with the first rhythm and blues band to gain widespread popularity in Guayaquil, Los Insectos.
KNown as a philosopher, his intellectual pursuits included the esoteric and the spiritual realm. He spent his last three years in Columbia, California. His brother, Julio, lives there, and plays locally in bluegrass and Irish-y bands. When he gigs Irish he goes by the moniker Julie O'Gara.
Johnny, I hardly knew ya, but had a crish on your sister, and I wondered where you'd gone lately--we used to smoke outside the County Library and shoot the breeze. You played with the Wentworth Lewis Quintet, too? I din't know that.
Have a good long ride, my friend.
Say hi to Millis.
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 20, 2012 - 08:05pm PT
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 20, 2012 - 08:07pm PT
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Richard Farińa wrote 2 books both with "blues" titles
Long time comin', long time gone
and
Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up To Me.
Both were a really fun ride
heff heff heffalump
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