And I've at least done my part, by sending off an absentee ballot, adding to what is becoming a flood, according to the elections department.
I used to vote in person, but that was when we lived in a suburb across the lake, and the polling place for almost everyone was the school you could see from the deck.
Now that I live in the middle of the city, the polling place for my precinct is a couple of miles away. Go figure.
In the midst of election anxiety, I got a good laugh from this post on Peter Pereira's blog.
Read it and giggle.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Juke box Saturday night...
It's actually the Bose radio that's pouring out those classic "Golden Age of Radio" songs, on "The Swing Years," the Saturday-night program on the local NPR station. If you're out of range of KUOW, the program streams on the web.
It's a good playlist. A little Spike Jones ("The Black-and-Blue-Danube Waltz,") some better-than-average Rosemary Clooney (a knock-out version of "There Will Never Be Another You.")
Now if Amanda, the host, will only play some Blossom Dearie, my evening will be complete!
So much chaos out there that it's hard to settle to a blog post. At choir the other night one woman said her brother-in-law, in Massachusetts, can't decide what is causing him more anxiety - the election, the economy, or the Red Sox!
(As of tonight, the Red Sox are doing just fine. Any good news is welcome!)
Z. reports fall foliage in Connecticut is lovely as advertised. As a New Englander born and bred, she will also be happy about the Red Sox.
Weather is beautiful here, too.
Facebook is much too fascinating at times. Although the fragmentary posts make the average e-mail message look like a full-fledged essay, they can be informative, incisive, amusing, mysterious, or just bracingly silly.
Silly gets you through a lot.
Family is scattered this weekend. Z is at Wesleyan, I and L are in Portland, D is holding the fort on Vashon.
And my brother, a retired nuclear engineer, just called from SeaTac, where he was about to board a plane for London, on the way to Mumbai. His group will spend 2-1/2 weeks working at an orphanage in a smaller Indian city, returning Election Day.
On the way home they have a layover in London that's long enough for an express trip into the city and a bus tour.
In the past couple of years he has participated in projects in the Ukraine (once) and Argentina (twice.) Before that, he and his wife went on a number of church-building trips to Mexico. Now she stays home with the kitty and listens to his stories when he returns.
Here above the lake tonight, it's Sparky the cat, Mae West (singing "Come Up and See Me Sometime") and me.
It's a good playlist. A little Spike Jones ("The Black-and-Blue-Danube Waltz,") some better-than-average Rosemary Clooney (a knock-out version of "There Will Never Be Another You.")
Now if Amanda, the host, will only play some Blossom Dearie, my evening will be complete!
So much chaos out there that it's hard to settle to a blog post. At choir the other night one woman said her brother-in-law, in Massachusetts, can't decide what is causing him more anxiety - the election, the economy, or the Red Sox!
(As of tonight, the Red Sox are doing just fine. Any good news is welcome!)
Z. reports fall foliage in Connecticut is lovely as advertised. As a New Englander born and bred, she will also be happy about the Red Sox.
Weather is beautiful here, too.
Facebook is much too fascinating at times. Although the fragmentary posts make the average e-mail message look like a full-fledged essay, they can be informative, incisive, amusing, mysterious, or just bracingly silly.
Silly gets you through a lot.
Family is scattered this weekend. Z is at Wesleyan, I and L are in Portland, D is holding the fort on Vashon.
And my brother, a retired nuclear engineer, just called from SeaTac, where he was about to board a plane for London, on the way to Mumbai. His group will spend 2-1/2 weeks working at an orphanage in a smaller Indian city, returning Election Day.
On the way home they have a layover in London that's long enough for an express trip into the city and a bus tour.
In the past couple of years he has participated in projects in the Ukraine (once) and Argentina (twice.) Before that, he and his wife went on a number of church-building trips to Mexico. Now she stays home with the kitty and listens to his stories when he returns.
Here above the lake tonight, it's Sparky the cat, Mae West (singing "Come Up and See Me Sometime") and me.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
R. I. P. Marpessa Dawn and Breno Mello
Who knew Eurydice was born in Pittsburgh?Certainly I didn't, when I first saw "Black Orpheus" in the 60's. Here's more information and lots of links.
At the time, true cinephiles (and self-important student movie fanatics) dismissed the film, preferring Cocteau's "Orphée" (if you can sit through that one without falling asleep, let me know. Even the motorcycles woke me only briefly.) "Black Orpheus" won a prize at Cannes in 1959, and the music never went away - thanks in part to Vince Guaraldi's jazz version. In a later capsule review, Pauline Kael called the film "greatly admired in its time," but concluded that Marpessa Dawn was worth a trip to Hell.
A couple of years ago, I went with two 30-something film fans to see a refurbished print of the movie at the Seattle International Film Festival. From the first scene, a crowd of samba-playing carnival goers departing a ferry in Rio (why can't Seattle ferry trips be more like that?) the audience was caught up. At the end, one of my companions said, "You could live in that movie."
Monday, September 29, 2008
Another Sunday market
Best Sunday farmer's market is the one in Ballard, a short bus ride or longish walk away.
Yesterday it was crowded with people enjoying the sunshine and the abundant produce. Among my favorite stands are the cheese makers (especially the one that features small fat drum-shaped crottons of fresh chèvre, plain or herb-crusted.)
Vegetables were definitely the stars yesterday. Here is one I had never seen before - a white eggplant.
And what better picture subjects can you find than tomatoes and peppers?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
And it looked like a thousand ...
I admit to exaggerating. According to Z., surveying the stage from her place in the Chorale, there were only 400 + musicians on stage for last night's Seattle Symphony performance of Mahler's 8th, also known as the Symphony of 1000. (Besides the Symphony and the chorale, another adult choir, a boy choir and extra musicians in almost every section of the orchestra took part.)
Also included: four trumpets and four trombones stationed in a left front box in McCaw Hall, adding their volume at two points in the 85-minute work. (No intermission, so pre-performance lines in the WC were formidable!)
At times volume was ear-shattering, but the piannissimi were as passionately intense, and the audience was as attentive as any I have ever seen at a concert. It was a treat to hear some long-time Seattle Opera singers among the eight soloists, especially Vinson Cole and Jane Eaglen.
Z's sister was here from the East Coast, enjoying Seattle's sudden return to sunshine and warmth. L. took the evening off from settling into her new home on Vashon to join us for dinner and the concert.
Friday night we we paid her a visit at work, as we crowded around a tiny table at Txori. It's her last Friday evening shift for a while, so we weren't the only friends and family to stop by to eat and say a quick hello. Txori features small plates and piquant combinations of flavors. As a starter, L. sent us a plate of small slices of soft ripe goat cheese with a few slices of sautéed apple. From there we managed our own orders to a point, then said to the waiter, "Please ask L. what else we need."
That brought out dessert - a miniature orange-saffron flan and a two-bite dish of chocolate mousse, sprinkled with a few hot pepper flakes.
If there's really an economic downturn coming, no one in Belltown seems worried. On Friday night the restaurant was packed with the young and glamorous, and when we later walked Z's sister back to her downtown hotel, we had to weave through sidewalk crowds. Every cafe with outside tables was full, and a popular small bar had a pileup of people at the door, hoping to find a place inside.
(In reference to the previous post, I'm now cranky with Obama for picking up the "Main Street" tag. But I am still cheering him on.)
Also included: four trumpets and four trombones stationed in a left front box in McCaw Hall, adding their volume at two points in the 85-minute work. (No intermission, so pre-performance lines in the WC were formidable!)
At times volume was ear-shattering, but the piannissimi were as passionately intense, and the audience was as attentive as any I have ever seen at a concert. It was a treat to hear some long-time Seattle Opera singers among the eight soloists, especially Vinson Cole and Jane Eaglen.
Z's sister was here from the East Coast, enjoying Seattle's sudden return to sunshine and warmth. L. took the evening off from settling into her new home on Vashon to join us for dinner and the concert.
Friday night we we paid her a visit at work, as we crowded around a tiny table at Txori. It's her last Friday evening shift for a while, so we weren't the only friends and family to stop by to eat and say a quick hello. Txori features small plates and piquant combinations of flavors. As a starter, L. sent us a plate of small slices of soft ripe goat cheese with a few slices of sautéed apple. From there we managed our own orders to a point, then said to the waiter, "Please ask L. what else we need."
That brought out dessert - a miniature orange-saffron flan and a two-bite dish of chocolate mousse, sprinkled with a few hot pepper flakes.
If there's really an economic downturn coming, no one in Belltown seems worried. On Friday night the restaurant was packed with the young and glamorous, and when we later walked Z's sister back to her downtown hotel, we had to weave through sidewalk crowds. Every cafe with outside tables was full, and a popular small bar had a pileup of people at the door, hoping to find a place inside.
(In reference to the previous post, I'm now cranky with Obama for picking up the "Main Street" tag. But I am still cheering him on.)
Thursday, September 25, 2008
What am I doing right now?
Recently, prompted by curiosity, I joined Facebook. So far I've done nothing more to my page than post a couple of short notes and check from time to time to see what Facebook friends (mostly people met through my children) are doing.
Quirkiest thing about Facebook is a box at the top of the page that says, "What are you doing right now?" You can post an update, an observation, a reminder, a reaction, long or short.
"Throwing her hands up in the air as if she doesn't care," is the latest note from one friend, the mother of two lively, intelligent children under 5. Perfectly understandable.
What I'm doing right now is trying to work out why this week's constant iteration of "Wall Street vs. Main Street" irritates me so much, especially when it comes from John McCain.
Part of it is McCain's phony folksiness, his shameless pandering to any group that will help him get elected.
Only a person completely out of touch with contemporary America actually believes "Main Street" still exists, outside of Disneyland.
Let me expand. Once, every town, no matter how small or remote, had a business center - a downtown. Washtucna had a mercantile, a grain elevator, a post office and a drugstore. Wilson Creek had a square-built bank, and several stores. (Washtucna is on the way to Benge and Endicott. Wilson Creek is halfway between Stratford and Marlin. You need a good map.)
Moscow, Idaho, where I grew up, had a flourishing business district, as it was central shopping for the region's prosperous farms and smaller communities. Main Street offered three department stores, two drugstores, a men's store, a women's store, a sporting goods store, two flower shops, two or three cafes, a Chinese restaurant, a book and paper goods store, a furniture store, the state liquor store, a travel agency and at least two real estate offices. You could buy meat, office supplies, shoes, cosmetics, fabric and patterns, mail a letter, pay the electric bill - all within a few blocks.
Little towns lost their business districts to the automobile and population shifts. Bigger places, like Moscow, fell victim to the mall, which sucked major stores away from town centers.
Because it is a university town, Moscow still has a Main Street, of sorts. The largest department store long ago turned into a very dubious club, the book and paper goods store is now the University art gallery, the men's store is a coffee house, as is one of the former flower shops. There is a good book store, and a cafe I remember from high school days is still doing business in its familiar location. The Chinese restaurant never moved or remodeled - the owners have just updated the kitchen equipment and put fresh varnish on the vintage wooden booths and paneling. (The food is good, too.)
It's not bad - just different, and a bit frustrating if you want more than ephemeral fashion, a meal or a cup of coffee. It's also livelier, on most days, than either of the two malls that mushroomed out of former wheat fields sometime in the late 60's. Siphoning business from both malls is Wal-Mart, still further out of town - another familiar story.
So - Main Street, as the mythmakers imagine it, is gone. As a reaction to malls, old downtowns have developed new ways to attract visitors, and one very healthy development is the weekly farmers/crafts market. Old hotels become residences, and small businesses hang on. The tiny towns will never come back, but mid-size places - especially small university towns - remain attractive.
But I still want Republican politicians to stop going on about "Main Street" (unless they are prepared to spend money for infrastructure and education improvement.)
So far, that only happens at Disneyland.
Quirkiest thing about Facebook is a box at the top of the page that says, "What are you doing right now?" You can post an update, an observation, a reminder, a reaction, long or short.
"Throwing her hands up in the air as if she doesn't care," is the latest note from one friend, the mother of two lively, intelligent children under 5. Perfectly understandable.
What I'm doing right now is trying to work out why this week's constant iteration of "Wall Street vs. Main Street" irritates me so much, especially when it comes from John McCain.
Part of it is McCain's phony folksiness, his shameless pandering to any group that will help him get elected.
Only a person completely out of touch with contemporary America actually believes "Main Street" still exists, outside of Disneyland.
Let me expand. Once, every town, no matter how small or remote, had a business center - a downtown. Washtucna had a mercantile, a grain elevator, a post office and a drugstore. Wilson Creek had a square-built bank, and several stores. (Washtucna is on the way to Benge and Endicott. Wilson Creek is halfway between Stratford and Marlin. You need a good map.)
Moscow, Idaho, where I grew up, had a flourishing business district, as it was central shopping for the region's prosperous farms and smaller communities. Main Street offered three department stores, two drugstores, a men's store, a women's store, a sporting goods store, two flower shops, two or three cafes, a Chinese restaurant, a book and paper goods store, a furniture store, the state liquor store, a travel agency and at least two real estate offices. You could buy meat, office supplies, shoes, cosmetics, fabric and patterns, mail a letter, pay the electric bill - all within a few blocks.
Little towns lost their business districts to the automobile and population shifts. Bigger places, like Moscow, fell victim to the mall, which sucked major stores away from town centers.
Because it is a university town, Moscow still has a Main Street, of sorts. The largest department store long ago turned into a very dubious club, the book and paper goods store is now the University art gallery, the men's store is a coffee house, as is one of the former flower shops. There is a good book store, and a cafe I remember from high school days is still doing business in its familiar location. The Chinese restaurant never moved or remodeled - the owners have just updated the kitchen equipment and put fresh varnish on the vintage wooden booths and paneling. (The food is good, too.)
It's not bad - just different, and a bit frustrating if you want more than ephemeral fashion, a meal or a cup of coffee. It's also livelier, on most days, than either of the two malls that mushroomed out of former wheat fields sometime in the late 60's. Siphoning business from both malls is Wal-Mart, still further out of town - another familiar story.
So - Main Street, as the mythmakers imagine it, is gone. As a reaction to malls, old downtowns have developed new ways to attract visitors, and one very healthy development is the weekly farmers/crafts market. Old hotels become residences, and small businesses hang on. The tiny towns will never come back, but mid-size places - especially small university towns - remain attractive.
But I still want Republican politicians to stop going on about "Main Street" (unless they are prepared to spend money for infrastructure and education improvement.)
So far, that only happens at Disneyland.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Closer to the end of summer...
It was bound to happen (I like the French for this: "ça devait arrivé.) Late last week, gray cold weather returned, and yesterday we got rain. Today was mostly clear (fortunately for the Fremont Octoberfest) but serious rain returned tonight.
No pictures, unless I add this one, of the three buildings just below here, so heavily wrapped in plastic that they resemble tents put up for some colossal event. (This picture is from last weekend - now you see nothing but yards and yards of white.)
Under the plastic each building is having a completely new outer layer applied. Reason is the same old thing - dryvit, an artificial stucco. See this for some of the gory details.
My building is ALSO faced with dryvit, but so far (another great French expression here - "porvu que ça dure" - meaning, roughly, "let's hope we keep dodging this bullet,") we've escaped a major resurfacing. (We did have a falling tree that wiped out a couple of balconies, but that is another story.)
For something completely different, if you're an archaeology fancier, check out this blog.
And did you know there is a Facebook group called, "I have more foreign policy experience than Sarah Palin"?
No pictures, unless I add this one, of the three buildings just below here, so heavily wrapped in plastic that they resemble tents put up for some colossal event. (This picture is from last weekend - now you see nothing but yards and yards of white.)
Under the plastic each building is having a completely new outer layer applied. Reason is the same old thing - dryvit, an artificial stucco. See this for some of the gory details.
My building is ALSO faced with dryvit, but so far (another great French expression here - "porvu que ça dure" - meaning, roughly, "let's hope we keep dodging this bullet,") we've escaped a major resurfacing. (We did have a falling tree that wiped out a couple of balconies, but that is another story.)
For something completely different, if you're an archaeology fancier, check out this blog.
And did you know there is a Facebook group called, "I have more foreign policy experience than Sarah Palin"?
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