1. The title to the Subaru arrived in the mail today. Our handy station wagon no longer belongs to the bank. It's ours.
2. Robust, raucous, caustic, belly-laughing coffee with Margaret, Jeff, and Michael today. Whoa, Nellie! There's a lot in the world of movies, books, students, Bob Dylan, LCC, and teaching to be, on the one hand, embittered and demoralized by, and, on the other hand, uplifted and mirthful about.
3. Michael and I talked for a few minutes in the parking lot. I was ecstatic when Michael told me he'd seen both "3:10 to Yuma" and "Appaloosa" and fully enjoyed them both. The same is true for Jolene. I really enjoy finding shared pleasure with others in movies I've seen. I don't enjoy sharing disdain about movies a fraction as much as I enjoy sharing enjoyment.
Showing posts with label Bob Dylan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bob Dylan. Show all posts
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Sibling Assignment #83: Glimpses of Thanksgiving
Tons of essays read, graded, commented on returned. Final grades computed. Letter of recommendation written. Electronic file organization project underway. Dog training session #1 with Snug and Maggie with the Deke's participation under out belt.
Whew. It's time to blog. I've avoided my blog. I have a lot to reflect upon and I didn't want to dive back into the deep end of Kellogg Bloggin with these other responsibilities pressing. I got them done. It's time to blog.
I know, Thanksgiving 2008 is old news. But, hey, this isn't a daily newspaper. It's a timeless blog and I hope you'll accept my invitation to go back to Thanksgiving Day and join in my family's celebration.
I hadn't been with my family for Thanksgiving since 1991. I shivered with excitement all Thanksgiving week to be with Mom and InlandEmpireGirl and Silver Valley Girl and the rest of our family.
For Sibling Assignment #82, Silver Valley Girl urged each of us to depict our Thanksgiving get together through each of our own eyes. InlandEmpireGirl's depiction is here and you'll find Silver Valley Girl's here.
On Thanksgiving Eve, travelling from Eugene to Spokane, I listened to the elderly Bob Dylan sing songs of loss as recorded on his latest album, Tell Tale Signs. Last night I surrendered again to Dylan's old, tired, ragged voice rasping these sad songs and I thought of waiting beneath the skybridge at the Spokane International Airport for the Kellogg contingent to pick me up:
I think I first saw Silver Valley Girl's smile with Sadie perched behind her shoulder when the Envoy passed downtown Spokane's Lincoln Street exit and her smile radiated still when the Envoy arrived at the skybridge.
We got settled in on the shores of Lake Roosevelt at InlandEmpireGirl's and it before long the laptops were out:
And Mother Mary held court:
Making sure her children behaved themselves:
All was not perfect. PKR was feeling a little under the weather and kept putting his magic healing mug to his face:
SilverValleyGirl would have you think she's all smiles and good cheer, but on Thanksgiving Day, she decided to warn us that she just might be Hell on Wheels:
Surely, the wine and sparkling cider/dessert table would sweeten her mood:
How could she be crabby sitting over InlandEmpireGirl lovely plates of salad?
And wouldn't InlandEmpireGirl's preparation of JBelle's Pacific Northwest Cranberry Chutney sweeten even the sourest crabby sister?
Someone got into the desserts:
Mom's sure happy:
And how about crabby Silver Valley Girl? Did we crack her cranky shell?
I think we did!
Whew. It's time to blog. I've avoided my blog. I have a lot to reflect upon and I didn't want to dive back into the deep end of Kellogg Bloggin with these other responsibilities pressing. I got them done. It's time to blog.
I know, Thanksgiving 2008 is old news. But, hey, this isn't a daily newspaper. It's a timeless blog and I hope you'll accept my invitation to go back to Thanksgiving Day and join in my family's celebration.
I hadn't been with my family for Thanksgiving since 1991. I shivered with excitement all Thanksgiving week to be with Mom and InlandEmpireGirl and Silver Valley Girl and the rest of our family.
For Sibling Assignment #82, Silver Valley Girl urged each of us to depict our Thanksgiving get together through each of our own eyes. InlandEmpireGirl's depiction is here and you'll find Silver Valley Girl's here.
On Thanksgiving Eve, travelling from Eugene to Spokane, I listened to the elderly Bob Dylan sing songs of loss as recorded on his latest album, Tell Tale Signs. Last night I surrendered again to Dylan's old, tired, ragged voice rasping these sad songs and I thought of waiting beneath the skybridge at the Spokane International Airport for the Kellogg contingent to pick me up:
I think I first saw Silver Valley Girl's smile with Sadie perched behind her shoulder when the Envoy passed downtown Spokane's Lincoln Street exit and her smile radiated still when the Envoy arrived at the skybridge.
We got settled in on the shores of Lake Roosevelt at InlandEmpireGirl's and it before long the laptops were out:
And Mother Mary held court:
Making sure her children behaved themselves:
All was not perfect. PKR was feeling a little under the weather and kept putting his magic healing mug to his face:
SilverValleyGirl would have you think she's all smiles and good cheer, but on Thanksgiving Day, she decided to warn us that she just might be Hell on Wheels:
Surely, the wine and sparkling cider/dessert table would sweeten her mood:
How could she be crabby sitting over InlandEmpireGirl lovely plates of salad?
And wouldn't InlandEmpireGirl's preparation of JBelle's Pacific Northwest Cranberry Chutney sweeten even the sourest crabby sister?
Someone got into the desserts:
Mom's sure happy:
And how about crabby Silver Valley Girl? Did we crack her cranky shell?
I think we did!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Three Beautiful Things 11/18/08: Noble Life, Zero Tribute, Bootleg Dylan
1. I deeply enjoyed my evening WR 121 class's discussion of what it means to live a noble life in response to Dan O'Brien's exploration of the same in Buffalo for the Broken Heart.
2. I purchased and downloaded the 08/08/08 Zero tribute concert to Martin Fierro, their lyrical and mirthful saxophone player who died March 13. Listening to "Gregg's Eggs" and "Catalina" and "Horses" and other tunes took me back thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen years ago to WOW Hall or to the Hilton Ballroom and night after night of improvisational jam jazz rock blues with Zero and the long, often dreamy meditations of Martin Fierro, as well as his playful antics with windup toys and verbal nonsense. If I could go back in time and relive any concerts from my past life, I'd go back to those great nights on the floor of the packed WOW Hall with Zero.
3. I fired up my pathetically tiny MP3 player with thirty-nine tracks from Bob Dylan's "Tell Tale Signs, the eighth volume of his bootleg releases. Dylan is old. I've never enjoyed him more. The gravity and weariness and depth of his aging voice makes his singing more accessible to me. He genuinely sounds at time deeply vulnerable and at other times he sounds like a wizened sage.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Three Beautiful Things 02/14/08: Themes, Schemes and Dreams, Gratitude, Ducks Win!
1. I have grown to love Bob Dylan's Theme Time Radio Hour on XM Radio, here. Today I discovered this blog where each episode of the show is available for download and I've begun making cd's for me and Jeff of as many episodes as I want to. I was so happy to discover this blog and its fruits, I nearly cried.
2. One of my favorite students, a woman returning to college in her 40s, wrote me Valentine's Day card thanking me for my classroom instruction. She told me that my classes are exactly what she'd always imagined college to be. For me, it's the highest praise I can receive as an instructor.
3. I came home from class tonight and nervously opened espn.com to find out how the Ducks fared against the Washington Huskies, the dreaded, hated Washington Huskies. The Ducks won! Joy! I'm wondering if the Ducks have turned a corner and might finish this season with a flourish (fingers crossed).
2. One of my favorite students, a woman returning to college in her 40s, wrote me Valentine's Day card thanking me for my classroom instruction. She told me that my classes are exactly what she'd always imagined college to be. For me, it's the highest praise I can receive as an instructor.
3. I came home from class tonight and nervously opened espn.com to find out how the Ducks fared against the Washington Huskies, the dreaded, hated Washington Huskies. The Ducks won! Joy! I'm wondering if the Ducks have turned a corner and might finish this season with a flourish (fingers crossed).
Saturday, February 2, 2008
The Night I Never Hugged Bob Dylan
The night I never hugged Bob Dylan began with a foul note from Benny's mom in the late afternoon.
It was April, 1997.
Benny's Mom's fiftieth birthday fell on Shakespeare's 433rd and I'd bought Oregon Shakespeare Festival King Lear tickets to celebrate, along with a night in a bed and breakfast.
Her note jammed in my back door called the outing off and, for me, called off the thing we'd had going for over a year. We never went out again.
Dave and Dave came by later and we drove to Portland to the Aladdin Theater and so began the night I never hugged Bob Dylan.
I'd seen Peter Himmelman live once before at the Back Door in Seattle in 1996 the night my Twisp friend Bill Davie opened for him and Sherman Alexie laughed at Bill's quips and doubled over in joy at Himmelman's jokes.
Peter Himmelman creates a living room on stage with couch and coffee table and candles and at some point in the show he invites audience members to make themselves at home on stage.
I didn't know he did this when I saw Peter Himmelman at the Back Door in Seattle.
When Dave and Dave picked me up after I read Benny's Mom's note I was feeling the free, loose way I feel after a thing with a girl ends and I told Dave and Dave that if Peter Himmelman put out a call for couch sitters at the Aladdin tonight I was going. I would spring to my feet the second I heard him start to mention it.
I followed through.
On the night I never hugged Bob Dylan, Peter Himmelman was part way through his first set when he started to say how nice the couch and candles and coffee table were on stage and did anyone and before he could say want to join him I jumped to my feet and started down the aisle and jumped on the stage at the Aladdin Theater to be with Peter Himmelman.
Later Dave and Dave came up and we all had beards and Peter called us Dave and the Beards.
I was happy to be a member of Dave and the Beards on stage with Peter Himmelman. I had bought his tape Strength to Strength in a shop in Newport the summer before, a few months after Sherman Alexie was in the house at the Back Door and I loved to pop the tape in my player and open the front door wide and plant irises and dig plots in the front yard while dancing with my shovel to "Woman with the Strength of 10,000 Men".
I'd made Benny's Mom a Peter Himmelman tape and a Bill Davie tape, too, and she called them my boys when she told me she loved those tapes and so with Benny's Mom now gone from my love life it seemed right to be on stage with Peter Himmelman.
I didn't know when I was on stage with Peter Himmelman that he would ask me to dance.
At one point he turned to me, out of mike reach, and said, "Bill, do you do interpretive dance?"
I was feeling loose and free and the stakes were low and I was taking Improv. Acting at Lane Community College and I said yes, I do interpretive dance.
Peter motioned me forward and told the packed house at the Aladdin Theater that I was an interpretive dancer and that I would perform to his song "Wrapped Up in Cellophane" (hear it here).
I didn't know the song. I listened keenly as Peter Himmleman sang and I was feeling loose and free and kept the stakes low and I floated, tried to keep my 235 pound third string rugby halfback body light, and convinced the packed house at the Aladdin Theater that I felt this song and my body swayed to my feelings and the audience believed I had cellophane in my hands while at key moments in the song I mummified myself in cellophane.
It was the night I never hugged Bob Dylan.
After the show, audience members mobbed me. I felt loose and free and grinned broadly and shook people's hands as they slapped my back and laughed and thanked me for my dance.
Still, I never hugged Bob Dylan.
After I was done with my dance, in front of the packed house at Aladdin Theater, Peter Himmelman hugged me so close I could smell the garlic from the green room pizza on his breath.
Peter Himmelman is Bob Dylan's son-in-law.
He could tell I felt loose and free.
He thanked me for my dance.
We hugged.
It was the night I never hugged Bob Dylan.
But, I was close.
It was April, 1997.
Benny's Mom's fiftieth birthday fell on Shakespeare's 433rd and I'd bought Oregon Shakespeare Festival King Lear tickets to celebrate, along with a night in a bed and breakfast.
Her note jammed in my back door called the outing off and, for me, called off the thing we'd had going for over a year. We never went out again.
Dave and Dave came by later and we drove to Portland to the Aladdin Theater and so began the night I never hugged Bob Dylan.
I'd seen Peter Himmelman live once before at the Back Door in Seattle in 1996 the night my Twisp friend Bill Davie opened for him and Sherman Alexie laughed at Bill's quips and doubled over in joy at Himmelman's jokes.
Peter Himmelman creates a living room on stage with couch and coffee table and candles and at some point in the show he invites audience members to make themselves at home on stage.
I didn't know he did this when I saw Peter Himmelman at the Back Door in Seattle.
When Dave and Dave picked me up after I read Benny's Mom's note I was feeling the free, loose way I feel after a thing with a girl ends and I told Dave and Dave that if Peter Himmelman put out a call for couch sitters at the Aladdin tonight I was going. I would spring to my feet the second I heard him start to mention it.
I followed through.
On the night I never hugged Bob Dylan, Peter Himmelman was part way through his first set when he started to say how nice the couch and candles and coffee table were on stage and did anyone and before he could say want to join him I jumped to my feet and started down the aisle and jumped on the stage at the Aladdin Theater to be with Peter Himmelman.
Later Dave and Dave came up and we all had beards and Peter called us Dave and the Beards.
I was happy to be a member of Dave and the Beards on stage with Peter Himmelman. I had bought his tape Strength to Strength in a shop in Newport the summer before, a few months after Sherman Alexie was in the house at the Back Door and I loved to pop the tape in my player and open the front door wide and plant irises and dig plots in the front yard while dancing with my shovel to "Woman with the Strength of 10,000 Men".
I'd made Benny's Mom a Peter Himmelman tape and a Bill Davie tape, too, and she called them my boys when she told me she loved those tapes and so with Benny's Mom now gone from my love life it seemed right to be on stage with Peter Himmelman.
I didn't know when I was on stage with Peter Himmelman that he would ask me to dance.
At one point he turned to me, out of mike reach, and said, "Bill, do you do interpretive dance?"
I was feeling loose and free and the stakes were low and I was taking Improv. Acting at Lane Community College and I said yes, I do interpretive dance.
Peter motioned me forward and told the packed house at the Aladdin Theater that I was an interpretive dancer and that I would perform to his song "Wrapped Up in Cellophane" (hear it here).
I didn't know the song. I listened keenly as Peter Himmleman sang and I was feeling loose and free and kept the stakes low and I floated, tried to keep my 235 pound third string rugby halfback body light, and convinced the packed house at the Aladdin Theater that I felt this song and my body swayed to my feelings and the audience believed I had cellophane in my hands while at key moments in the song I mummified myself in cellophane.
It was the night I never hugged Bob Dylan.
After the show, audience members mobbed me. I felt loose and free and grinned broadly and shook people's hands as they slapped my back and laughed and thanked me for my dance.
Still, I never hugged Bob Dylan.
After I was done with my dance, in front of the packed house at Aladdin Theater, Peter Himmelman hugged me so close I could smell the garlic from the green room pizza on his breath.
Peter Himmelman is Bob Dylan's son-in-law.
He could tell I felt loose and free.
He thanked me for my dance.
We hugged.
It was the night I never hugged Bob Dylan.
But, I was close.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Three Beautiful Things 01/28-30/08: Lloyd Thaxton, Editor at Last, "Modern Times"
1. I've been diving into my musical past, all the way back to the after school syndicated sound studio live mayhem of the Lloyd Thaxton Show. Lloyd Thaxton introduced me to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. Lloyd sometimes played goofy air trumpet to "Tijuana Taxi" and other Brass hits and before long I was a part of this music being played in junior high and high school band. I've been listening to Herb Alpert albums on Napster, including Rise, Whipped Cream and Other Delights, Going Places, and South of the Border.
Did you ever used to dance in the living room in front of the telly to Lloyd and his guests? Would you like to keep in touch with Lloyd Thaxton?
His blog is here. Lloyd Thaxton was interviewed on Florence Henderson's talk show here. The interview opens with a fun video recap of Thaxton's career.
2. The long editor drought at Denali has ended. Mark January 30th as the day the Lane Community College Media Commission (including yours truly) selected a 2007-08 editor, Lindsay Stalone. I'm the magazine's literary advisor and look forward to working with Lindsay.
3. Last night I loaded up my low capacity MP3 player with Bob Dylan albums, put on the headphones, and went to sleep listening to Bob Dylan croon on his gravelly album, "Modern Times".
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Three Beautiful Things 01/21/08: Thunder, Moodle, Maggie
1. I listened to and marveled at Bob Dylan's Bootleg Volume No. 5 album on Napster. It's from the Rolling Thunder Review and, Oh Mercy!, what inventive and energetic readings of Dylan's songs.
2. I had a lot of fun making my class Moodle pages look better and posting more information on them. (Moodle is a site dedicated to posting information and assignments for my courses.)
3. The Deke went to Mary's to visit and while she was gone her Corgi, Maggie, came on my bed where I was working and pressed close to me in peaceful co-existence with Snug. It was sublime.
2. I had a lot of fun making my class Moodle pages look better and posting more information on them. (Moodle is a site dedicated to posting information and assignments for my courses.)
3. The Deke went to Mary's to visit and while she was gone her Corgi, Maggie, came on my bed where I was working and pressed close to me in peaceful co-existence with Snug. It was sublime.
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