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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Bloody Sunday 1920
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloody_Sunday_%281920%29
Bloody Sunday (Irish: Domhnach na Fola) was a day of violence in Dublin on 21 November 1920, during the Irish War of Independence.
In total, 31 people were killed –fourteen British, fourteen Irish civilians and three republican prisoners.
Ah, but that's not all you get, folks!
Along with Dublin 1920, we are giving you Dublin 1913, Belfast 1922, and Derry 1972.
Anybody who thinks he can beat our offer is welcome to see me in the Bermingham Jail here in Middle Earth, where all the children are told they are good-looking, no one drinks more than a six-pack per day, and all the cars still run.
Blessed are the poor in spirit.
I pity the poor immigrant.
These bootstraps are made for pulling.
Boots, start stomping.
This fascist was laid low by an open-tuned Lyell guitar that I purchased in a pawn shop in 1968.
A poor unknown dock-worker slipped and fell into the water in a set-to with the police in old Pedro, but he was Wobbly to begin with probably. But no on knew or knows his name...he's the unknown longshoreman.
Today there is still dispute on the docks.
http://www.usatoday.com/story/money/business/2015/02/19/west-coast-ports-charm-longshoremen/23687421/
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Which Bloody Sunday's in YOUR wallet?
Angels of Light/I Pity the Poor Immigrant
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfDmtW96n9Q
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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One of the works Most Art dedicated to Haydn.[Click to View YouTube Video]
Part of a series of Coffee With Big Deals including Hemingway, The Buddha, Groucho, Marilyn, Michelangelo, Plato, and the two-name guy, Oscar Wilde. Ten bucks each.pp.52 to 58.
You’re the finest pianist in Germany. Why did you compose so much?
Your question puzzles me: musicians compose. Of course, I played other composers music—mostly when I was too young to have written anything better! And I compose for money.
Isn’t there more money in performing?
Sometimes. But 100 ducats for an opera—that’s not bad! And now 50 ducats for a requiem—easy!
Easy? If you say so. But tell me, how do you compose?
How? Why? What funny questions! I LIKE to compose above everything, even playing. Though that’s often much the same.
How so? Do you need a clavier to compose?
Of course not! What a question...Ah, the beer’s coming. Please excuse me, I’m still thirsty...(To the waiter) Thank you.
I shall try to answer straightforwardly. I prefer having a clavier handy. But the clavier’s not for inventing things, it’s for linking them by improvising. Yes, stringing ideas together. You know how we like contrast—chiaroscuro--in modern music? Different ideas in the same tempo, shifting colors, light and dark, major and minor harmony. Enchanting! And it keeps the listener interested. I learned that from the London Bach, a dear man and a great composer. It was sad he died so young—though older than I am now...What were we talking about?
Stringing ideas together.
Yes, Papa called it “il filo,” the thread that binds ideas together. But he was worried that I made things too difficult. I remember that letter well—I think I was in Mannheim. “Some things are great if done in a natural way—if they flow smoothly and are well composed. It’s harder to do that than write artificial harmonies that most people don’t understand...”
Maybe it was “harder” for him, it wasn’t for me. What else did he say? “Good composition and arrangement of ideas, il filo—this you can tell the maestro from the clodhopper, even in trivial works...” Of course, this was all about selling printed music. Or making flute quartets for that Dutch doctor in Mannheim. What was his name—Deschamps? Dejean? Papa was angry when I only completed half the commission...
Improvising in public’s different. Then you can play things that messieurs-les-amateurs delight in, but wouldn’t like written down. Bold dissonances,like old Bach’s works. Lines that clash, but logically, so they separate and work into a more beautiful consonance. Fugues. So hard to write!
But you played them on the spur of the moment?
Yes, of course. Then you get away with things—change key quickly,bring in the main idea—and everyone calls “Bravo!” But getting everything in place on paper, so it’s bearable to repeat, that’s another thing. And not just with fugues. The contrast—the ciiaroscuro—needs great care. You have to introduce surprises, but in a way that will please, that connoisseurs understand and amateurs like, too...though they won’t know why. And if you’re not careful, the thread will break!
Does your thread never break?
Maybe...it did when I was young. But I’m usually happy with what I‘ve done. I can take or leave my older works. Those with long ears will leave the new ones, too. It’s their problem, if they’ve paid for them! Some rich oaf bought my quartets, the ones I dedicated to Papa Haydn and that cost me so much time and were so difficult to write. Not paid back in sales, I can tell your! But this ass, he starts to play them with his lackeys, and stops and says the music is full of mistakes—and he throws it away! But they were well printed. No mistakes.
Perhaps the music was difficult.
Not the finger-work, it’s the notes themselves. But they all make sense—go over them, practice, until you can hear the harmony. It’s not meant to be easy. Whatever Papa said, connoisseurs have rights as well!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Cockadoodle doo!
I got lots of sleep.
I'm still gonna take a nap and listen to what comes...
We are now on Pacific Savings Time. Lost an hour back there...
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-dEXT7Q_fk&t=144
I know that she's no pal, but this is more than okay so I put the link in,
now i have a plan, but time to get the week set up, and shoe, the kids, for spring.'at this point moving' fast I hope Im not repeating. The above is NJ, the left edge of the Blue Gus Chimney, below is the right side I wonder how the Ice in the back of this set up,damn I yearn for cold misery, `No it was Ekat who posted a memorium, that led to a mass listen, now more to my problems.
I have too many Files of great Pics And it takes An Hour to find the cloud I want to share
do you see it ? no thats because I could not find it after finding it last night.
Gotta go
see Ya' in the funny pages lost in shanghai just emailed me ?? whaat? welcome back Poiltard(CFrye) Is entertaining this am
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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This can't be coincidence that you put Steve Wildley into the mix.
Did you know him or what?
Because he's just passed away.
http://www.gofundme.com/Steves-lungs
Popcorn Lung
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bronchiolitis_obliterans
For Steve...
You know that we will meet again
When all our journeys reach their end
And as we live to see that time
You’re here within our hearts and minds
So now we say “farewell” dear friend
Your journey here has reached its end
Now put your pain and fear to rest
We know you’ve given all your best
--Rosa M Douglass 03-07-2015
Our dear friend Steve is finally at rest.
8:15pm EST March 07, 2015
I've just begun to take a finely-crushed powder of Reishi mushrooms in capsule form on a daily basis, hoping for some relief from COPD. Both Popcorn Lung and COPD are irreversible.
Steve sure played well and looked to enjoy it a lot. RIP, brother.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Thanks, Gnome. That's a relief. I can't imagine his last days.
As we draw closer to lent and Easter and Passover and St. Paddy's day, the great imponderables are becoming more pondered here in Middiddle Earth.
I suppose it comes from being brought up RC, see.This pic was taken by Mike or by Mom, neither of whom is in the shot.
That tall kid is Mike Livermore, my oldest friend. We two friends went from Santa Barbara/Carpinteria to the Eastside via Monterey and camped out for two weeks or so in various locations with Mike's folks and Jay the Beagle.
I remember lots of rain, few fish on the line, and Marines sliding down high lines near their Walker River winter resort on the road to Sonora Pass, Hwy 108.
Since it's Sunday, here is a readable book for the adults out there based on the life of Christ, called Lamb.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Werner yer quite the lucky guy having such a beautiful woman by yer side for all these years.
Peace
--Ron Gomez
Too right, Ron!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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http://foundsf.org/index.php?title=Woodward%27s_Gardens,_c._1860s
What to do, where to go, San Francisco, the mid-ninetenth century.
Some of the museum stock was bought up at auction and taken for display at the Sutro Baths, now gone as well.
Sutro's museum had a few automatons, but no writing boy.
I remember vividly a roller coaster made from toothpicks and similar displays of tediously-crafted miniatures.
Documentary documentation of Sutro's Baths.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyHTaPwN88s
"Several years of history in just under fifteen minutes."--Jeffersonians
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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I do not know how much weed this guy was hauling, but he was able to land successfully. For those not in the know this Toll(not free)Way lies in the shadow of Otay Mtn.
BTW, which one is Donini?
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Sweet sounds indeed! I do not want to dwell on the morbid.
Lets live life to the fullest while we can and as this crap shoot roller coaster ride callad life jerks us to and fro, Be Glad and happy for each blessing that is ours to hold to the light of God and say Thanx Dude!
Some how dogs seem to know what is around that last corner as it appears down the trail,
for many a dog it is just time, Daisy looked at me and we stood for that instant in a holy light
she was Fine, happy at the end. She just streched and yawned, took a passing sniff at the
peanut butter scraps that I restricted from her I gave her three nice bites but was scared that I
would cause an attack and talked her out of them saying "now hone' you know how the treats mess with you,
She took it well and we as I said had our last moment together I was here , she was
by the Base board heater I did not hear a high or any sound really.
I got up and started the Meat balls and realized she was not under foot, she had passed
this was a hard choice, to post but as a corse climber type who cries at the drop of a hat,
it was as it should be so I share and I am sorry.
one thing more the world sucks the disposal of a dog here, is by weight,zip code and some perceived ability to pay, I now have a payment plan forthis saddest chapter.
The vet. said they waived their fee and it is still going to cost $400, this is a first world problem thrust upon me that I understand I have gone both ways when living in a far flung low population area, I have always buried my pets . In a near city urban suburb, you can't have people just doing that, it leads to tossed animal epidemics, or it could.
That this is a very heavy learning, moment for the family and family values, family traditions?
I wish I could do a a more spiritual thing but there are group cremations for a bit less than half,
Never heard of such a thing the vet, takes the dog, puts it on ice ala Ron Anderson , taxidermy ? Stuff the dog??? Prolly cost $$k that is off track ,
They prep the dog and wait till a bunch more come in get put down and then cremate the lot.
When it's your choice day you come in and pick up an urn.
Twisted solution to urban dog death epidemic.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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I liked how you stayed away from morbid, there. :0)
No shaggy dog stories, though, my friends.
My Clover.
Mother to My Frank due to a fence-jumping black Labrador. This may or may not be fair to the Lab in question. She had fence-jumping down to a fine art and it's fair to assume she leapt at the chance to tryst with such a handsome local talent as he.
Clover's demise did not happen on my watch. She had been picked up several times by the Contra Costa Animal Task Force, or the dog-catcher, easily, they said. Clover was costing me plenty in retrieval fees.
It doesn't hurt to tell that she was given to us by Nancy and Dave Beck who found her wandering the streets in Berkeley. This was her lot in life, to be a roamer, not a homer.
The fruit of her loins, young Frank, was able to leap the fence one night with her and they were gone three days. The shelter called saying they had Frank. He had been crippled by a run-in with a vehicle and had a drain installed in the foreleg to deal with infection. They charged me the normal rate for holding at their dog jail (at least he came back to us free of tattoos!) plus the fees for the vet's services.
A few days later they called about Clover and quoted $75 for releasing her this time. I declined quickly and explained that I was not a heartless monster, but would appreciate their trying to keep her there and finding a new home for her. I saw her riding around in the back of some guy's pickup several weeks later.
Frank came along to Lake Tahoe, but decided to stay on Grouse Mountain one afternoon. He would not come to the truck as we were ready to leave with a load of oak firewood to sell. Tim and I had no luck with the landlord, who had warned us to get rid of the dog, and so our chance came. We left him to himself there and that was the last dog I had, barring Rusty the lovable golden retriever who came with Liz and her entourage nine years later.
Except for Sweetheart, or Corazon. She followed me home one night from a bar. I had to take her to the pound because my cruel landlord/roommate perceived her as a threat to his 900-year-old grampa.
[Click to View YouTube Video]That's right, 900 years. Talk about your mossback!
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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The Morbid share had at first included a picture of the dead, and the dead dog,
when the Jj boyd saw that she hit me in the head(again) "what the hells wrong with you" she said it was not a question , the net result was a bit more damaging.
When I remembered that I had forgotten to remove (deleted seems cruel in this case) the photo of the dead dog from the Sick Trembler, storage banks.
So 1st thing in the morning jumped on the communal computer that sits in the kitchen on the table where we eat,to do the deletion of the sad an' foul photo , the youngster in the family unit saw the picture.
Oh boy now I am on the hook for years of therapy , for the husband please.
This was the fast version; as it was morning and I engrossed in what I was doing missed the shattered eyes and the wife's rescue of the situation, by dragging both tots out of the kitchen.
any way I can PM a dead dog picture if you feel like seeing it, z has some video up that made me squemish , what was it again? It must have been disturbing because I my state of poverty induced sobriety ,( No thanx to the thread Here!) I can not for the life of me remember anything more than the warning'
Caveat emptor! all though, as I said, I am trying to live more by Carpe Diem.
Just one more thing - I get it!! No more Large Dogs.
Any future mutt must fit into a duffel that I can toss easily, hurl, fling or afford to bury/ cremate or what have you.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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00PS!!I posted it again? still searching for the Right clouds, not this again.
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