We had to go to the store this morning for milk … out into the hinterlands to walk with the common folks, the masked masses. I don’t know why, but this scene played in my head. Cleavon Little’s laughter almost looks like an outtake, but Mel Brooks left it in. Gene Wilder is a superb comedic talent.
This video came to mind as I saw all the news readers out there pushing the Coronavirus hoax. They are not scholars. They are not “journalists,” if that word has meaning. They are hired because they are good looking and seem trustworthy and can be taught to read a teleprompter. Example follows, well known, but worth another look.
This post could just as easily be called “Tastes are Personal, Dontcha Know?” It is about comedy and comedians. We all have our favorites, and I will list just a few of mine.
Dennis Miller: Even when I was very liberal, I enjoyed this man. His humor is biting, and extremely clever. Talking about service animals on airplanes, and how carried away (so to speak ) it has gotten, he mentioned a seatmate on an overseas flight, and her “therapeutic puff adder.” He said that Hillary’s campaign was “shakier than a blood bank at a Greyhound Depot.” Something like that, things that would never cross my mind, that catch me by surprise, and make me laugh out loud.
One point of clarification before I move on with my life. I described the vehicle I saw parked at the Miles Mathis residence as a “golf cart.” I did not know how else to describe it. But that is not accurate. It was something like the above vehicle, and was blue, as I recall. It did not say “police” or have light bars or anything like that. In the town where I grew up, the people who enforced parking laws used them. We called them “meter maids” because they were all Lovely Ritas.
I had a friend, since passed away, with whom I spent a lot of time in the back country and on trails, and consequently, a lot of time on the highway. This was pre-Internet, and in Montana radio stations are few and there are lots of dead spaces between the towns. The primary means of entertainment while traveling was cassette tapes. This would be mid-90s.
The national anthem of the United States of America is an awkward tune that tests the limits of our vocal ranges. It is also not a very good song, clunky and lacking a catchy melody, barely lending itself to harmony. Singers at ball games often try to improvise on it, adding a note or two to show off their range. Even so, after singing it perhaps 50,000 times most of us are (or should be) tired of it.
I see that the European Union chose Ludwig von Beethoven’s Ode to Joy, part of the fourth movement of his Ninth Symphony, a very moving piece of music. They added new words as follow:
Europe is united now
United it may remain
Our unity in diversity
May contribute to world peace.
Faith and Justice
And freedom for its people
In a bigger motherland.
Citizens, Europe shall flourish
Golden stars in the sky are
The symbols that shall unite us.
Those are good words, appealing to our higher values with no reference to war or rockets going off.
That in mind, with Europe having set a precedent of sorts by using classical music for an anthem, I thought perhaps I could get a movement going in this country to do the same. See below the tab for my suggested national anthem of the United States of America.
This is a chapter from my book about my one eared father’s tall tales of old Hollywood. Since it involves a celebrity switch-a-roo, a POM specialty, enjoy…
A Buddy’s Love
I might return to my parent’s brief marriage but my father had no chance as a husband for we now know he was suffering from a crippling dose of hyperactivity. He was a workaholic because of this, an alcoholic, too, but he was born in 1931 when addiction to bitterness and resentment was a cultural imperative so the bottomless thirst came standard. He never said no to a job and this sickness kept him busy all day and night.