Turn your radio on - 10.29.11
There I was in bed, when I turned on my radio for a hit of NPR. This scary voice was reading. It turned out to be William Blatty reading from his book, The Exorcist.  He then went on to tell about how badly the book sold when it first came out. His publisher had taken him to a that's-all-we-can-do-goodbye lunch at the Four Seasons, when they brought a phone to his table. Seems that Dick Cavett has had a last-minute guest cancellation for his TV show and he needed somebody quick. Blatty goes, they go on the air and Cavett says that he hasn't read the book and could the author describe it. So, for about 40 minutes Blatty reads from, and describes his book—basically he does a monologue . He thanks Cavett for this wonderful opportunity and leaves. A week passes and Blatty picks up a TIME magazine—his book is number four on the national bestsellers list! It goes on to become number one, has a great run, and is latter made into a major projectile vomiting, blockbuster movie. I just love these stories of chance happenings.

Another personal note. I first saw The Exorcist in college. Me and a good friend had to walk a couple of miles in a Vermont snow storm. We got there late, just as the film was starting. The only seats left were in the very front row. Yes, images blur when the action moves quickly across a big screen, but we were ready to deal with that. There was something else. If you've seen the movie, think of the opening scene. It starts with a man hammering away on some metal on an anvil. The theater had a great sound system and we were just about sitting on those giant speakers. After our winter walk, all wrapped up in winter clothes, hats and scarves, struggling through the soft, muffled sounds of a snowfall...there was this incredible clanging, smashing, deafening ROAR. It was intense. It's still one of my life's defining moments for an intense moment.
   And yes, the projectile vomiting scenes seemed almost to be in 3D for those of us stuck in the center of the front row. That's another time when seeing a movie on TV is nothing compared to the big screen experience. — John

  q  w  e  r  t  y  u  i  o  p  a  s  d  f  g  h  j  k  l  z  x  c  v  b  n  m  


Costco sizes & life expectancy - 7.28.11

Yes, we still shop at Costco. We joined years ago while managing a bed & breakfast, and starting the bookstore. Massive packages of TP, and mints for the pillows.

Today we went again. I was looking for a package of razor blades, as my old cartridge was becoming increasingly sadistic on my neck, and I wanted to buy these ridiculously-expense blades in quantity. I found a plastic bubble pack of them at $48 for 24. That's a lot of money, but that's a lot of blades.

      This is my step back in time.
These are Mach3 blades...ONLY 3 blades. I admit it, I'm a dinosaur. On the shelf above mine, where the newer 5 blade cartridges. Shaving technology has gone way beyond that old Saturday Night Live skit that took it to three blades, and explaining how it all worked "grabbing whiskers...stretching...snapping back" and that great closing line of "The Triple Trac, because you'll believe anything." 

So, back to my purchase...remember, we were at a lot of money, but lots of blades.
My question is, should I start to take into account the fact that I'm 57 when I'm buying in bulk like this?
 Will I live long enough to need 24 cartridges? Should Costo bulk packs be included in wills?                     
Maybe I do need five blades.     — John

  q  w  e  r  t  y  u  i  o  p  a  s  d  f  g  h  j  k  l  z  x  c  v  b  n  m  

an old man's tale of horror - 4.23.11

His eyes were heavy.
They seemed to be pulling themselves out of their sockets.

There was a ringing in his ears.
If he tensed his ear-wiggling muscles he could create that great stereo effect from the Who's song Baba O'Riley where the sound goes from speaker to speaker. (It's really a headphone thing.)

He studied his skin.
It had been evolving, developing extreme "character"...as in liver spots, pigment-free zones, copious wrinkles, and skin tags. "WHAT THE HELL IS IT WITH SKIN TAGS!"
It's like hair growing out of your ears, nose, and growing in waves across your back.
Has your body kicked into some hyper-drive production of skin and hair, when just covering the old areas, just isn't ambitious enough?

There it goes.
His right eyeball has slid out of the old socket and and is sliding across his cheek.
Whereas this would surely be grounds for a severe freak-out.
But he simply thought to himself — "It can't go far, and anyway, I have 2 of the damn things."
Besides, it was such a strange trip to be still be seeing out of the wandering eye...the escaping eye.
Here was a truly new perspective on life.
One from his cheek...looking into his own ear.
Just LOOK at that damn HAIR there!

Then using his socket-confined, and fixated eye, he noticed something odder — the array of bumps living on his ankles were creating shifting patterns.
He sat and he pondered to himself — "Would my skin communicate? Would it form words? Ask me questions?!"
What would ankle bumps have to say to the big galoot?
Like so much of what your body tends to tell you...would this too be a warning of things to come?

Soon there were letters.

Great! Possibly, no, most assuredly, the first time skin abnormalities "speak" — it's some sort of pyro-Marxist nonsense.
Or, were they instructions?
"Let it all burn baby!" Set fire to all that "the man" controls.
It could be the beginning of the revolution, the destruction of the world as we think we know it.
All because of a skin flaw.

Or, it's all about aging.
An old man observing what decades of tennis under a hot sun has made him into.
Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. — John

                                       footnote - for more information on the song Baba O'Riley and it's inspiration

  q  w  e  r  t  y  u  i  o  p  a  s  d  f  g  h  j  k  l  z  x  c  v  b  n  m   

the Reading King's castle — a sad fable - 1.8.11

Once in time, there was a fresh, bright castle on a hill. People had learned to come from near and far to this special place. Great books were held up on pedestals, and entertainment, amusement, fellowship, and learning were in abundance. There was a richness of knowledge brought to the land by the distant, Reading King. His Queen ran the castle with her loyal, talented troop. The castle glowed brighter and brighter as time moved on.

But hints of an ignorant threat appeared in the land, and a dirty curtain of fear descended over the good people. The dark forces of the neighboring little minds worked to seduce the distracted King, to gain control of his fortress. The forces of the ignorant night were near, already on the castle side of the moat. The beautiful Queen fought hard to open the King’s eyes to the threat and keep the menace out. She would reinforce a gate here, make a logical argument there, but the Reading King was distracted by happenings in his vast realm. The fair Queen tried to focus the King, but alas, he allowed the hoard of little minds to take over the castle.

The Reading King’s forces were cornered and feared what the ghoulish leader of the ignorants would do to them and their rich lands. Occasionally the little minds’ leader would slink into the castle and just watch, like a vulture eying a corpse. That was it, he would just watch, just stare. It became clear why he was the leader of the little minds, as he was the most arrogant, the most ignorant, not even knowing his own age. His leering wasn’t without effect, he made the King’s people uneasy, and the womenfolk feel dirty.

Some of the King’s men were tortured with long talks with the little mind’s leader, as he seemed to speak in tongues (Swahili some say) and seldom made sense. While he promised no book burnings, he kept repeating, “Less is more.” A wise grasshopper he wasn’t, more an annoying hoverfly buzzing around aimlessly. Soon a shroud of depression descended to cover the land. The barbarians spoke of tearing down the castle walls, looting the glory of the Reading King’s castle, and replacing it with the ignorant wares of their own barren, lifeless land. The small minds wanted to attract even more small minded peoples and saw no worth in the literal beauty of the castle.

One of the King’s men, and the Queen’s extremely sexy lover, sent out a warning to friends near and far, of the barbarians’ plans to use their essence and plunder their very names for ill-gotten gains. The man and the lovely Queen were quickly banished from the castle. Their fight was over.

The Reading King’s people were left trapped inside the grieving castle with the angry small minds. The future looked dark as the forces of ignorance strove to remake the Reading King’s glorious castle in their own bleak image. People of the surrounding lands hung their heads and lamented the once proud bastion of the best of the literary arts and culture, being brought down by the small minded barbarians and their ignorant leader.

Sorry, not every story can have a happy ending. — John

  q  w  e  r  t  y  u  i  o  p  a  s  d  f  g  h  j  k  l  z  x  c  v  b  n  m   

You've got to read ___ !

Ever had somebody tell you that you just MUST read some particular title, "IT'S GREAT", only to have it utterly fail to interest you?

Then, maybe days, weeks or months go by - and you return to the book for another try.

And it fails to grab you again.

Maybe your friend is continuing to tell you that you MUST read it, "it's one of the BEST books ever written." So, bowing to peer pressure (maybe fearing that you just aren't "getting it" or aren't smart enough) and because you want to be a good sport -  you give it another try.

At this point, or after many more attempts, the book gods smile upon you and you find yourself reading ONE GREAT BOOK. This is just another wonderful thing about reading - some books will be glad to wait years until you're ready for their pleasures. Your mind just has to be in the right place.

It's like that old Steve Martin routine — it's all about ti-Ming
Or, it's one of those books that just has no there — there. And your friend is wrong. — John

  q  w  e  r  t  y  u  i  o  p  a  s  d  f  g  h  j  k  l  z  x  c  v  b  n  m   

How does the next book come into your life?

With me (remember, it's all about me) titles come at me from all directions.
There is always the easy - what else has the wonderful writer of what I just finished written?
   or, there is the huge list of books that I've been looking for for years
   or, it's that juicy book that just came in at the store
   or, something intriguing I've just read a review of, saw an ad for or got listed somewhere
   or, a fascinating title that a customer came in to order or was talking about
   or, while straightening the store I come across some gem that MUST be read NOW
   or, Vicky read something and loved it
   or, an ARC (advanced readers copy) arrives from the publisher
   or, there it was in one of the stacks of books by the bed, something I forgot all about
   or, some random thought during the day, or in a dream, steered me towards my next book.
There are more ways that titles jump into my hands, but I must stop myself ... and go read. — John

  q  w  e  r  t  y  u  i  o  p  a  s  d  f  g  h  j  k  l  z  x  c  v  b  n  m 

I'm addicted to reading

"My name is John, and I'm a reading addict." I'm one of those people that is constantly looking for something to read, someone who has a burning need to keep my mind occupied with the written word. As a kid, I devoured the old magazines in the dentist's waiting room, read the pamphlets at the Ford garage, and lived in a house full of readers and their books. Passing books around the family was a way of life. Giving books as gifts was perfect, because you should always try to read the gift — to just MAKE SURE it was the CORRECT gift. For some still unfathomable reason, I stopped reading for a number of years in my early teens, only to come back at it even more intensively ever since. For years (or rather decades) I find myself always reading several novels and some nonfiction, as well as all those New Yorkers, NYT newspapers, and so many other things throughout the house. Our is a well-read house. — John

  q  w  e  r  t  y  u  i  o  p  a  s  d  f  g  h  j  k  l  z  x  c  v  b  n  m   

reading freedom

While the concept of discussing books in a book club has some appeal to me, I don't participate in them because I don't want to HAVE TO READ something. The staggering and lurching from book to book, with only my personal choice being the determining factor, is much of the joy of reading. (Computer, software and tax manuals are the only things that aren't a part of my reading freedom ... and I won't describe what a joy they can be.) To me a book is the perfect BEING IN THE MOMENT sort of thing ... that could just be because of my short-term memory limitations. Now I forgot what I was writing about ...  — John

____________________________________________
____________________________________________

  footnote on Baba O'Riley -
The song's title is derived from this combination of the song's philosophical and musical influences: Meher Baba and Terry Riley.
Parts of the rock-opera Tommy (1969) were inspired by Townshend's study of Meher Baba, to whom the album was dedicated. The Who's 1971 song "Baba O'Riley" was named in part after Meher Baba, and on his first solo album, Who Came First, Townshend recorded the Jim Reeves song "There's A Heartache Following Me", saying that it was Meher Baba's favorite song. "Baba O'Riley" was initially 30 minutes in length and was planned to be used during the concerts at the Royal Festival Hall in London, England. When Who's Next was being arranged "Baba O'Riley" was edited down to only the "high points" of the track. The other parts of the song appeared on the third disc Pete Townshend's Lifehouse Chronicles as "Baba M1 (O'Riley 1st Movement 1971)" and "Baba M2 (2nd Movement Part 1 1971)".
_________

Meher Baba (1894–1969) was an Indian mystic and spiritual master who declared publicly in 1954 that he was the Avatar of the age. He led a normal childhood, but at the age of 19, brief contact with a Muslim holy woman began his process of spiritual transformation. The name Meher Baba means "Compassionate Father". He also conducted wide-ranging travels, public gatherings, and works of charity, including working with lepers, the poor, and the mentally ill. In 1931, he made the first of many visits to the West, where he attracted many followers. In 1962, he invited his Western followers to India for a mass darshan called "The East-West Gathering." Concerned by an increasing use of LSD and other psychedelic drugs, in 1966 he stated that they did not convey real benefits. Despite deteriorating health, he continued what he called his "Universal Work," which included fasting, seclusion, and meditation, until his death on January 31, 1969. From July 10, 1925 to the end of his life, he maintained silence, and communicated by means of an alphabet board or by unique hand gestures. Meher Baba often spoke of the moment "that he would 'break' his silence by speaking the 'Word' in every heart, thereby giving a spiritual push forward to all living things." Meher Baba said that the breaking of his silence would be a defining event in the spiritual evolution of the world. He is said to have never spoken again before he died.
_________

Terry Riley
Born in 1935 in Colfax, California, Riley was a musician and composer associated with the minimalist school of Western classical music. He studied at Shasta College, San Francisco State University, San Francisco Conservatory, and the University of California, Berkeley. Riley made numerous trips to India over the course of his study. Throughout the 1960s he traveled frequently around Europe as well, taking in musical influences and supporting himself by playing in piano bars, until he joined the Mills College faculty to teach Indian classical music. Also during the 1960s were the famous "All-Night Concerts", during which Riley performed mostly improvised music from evening until sunrise, using an old organ harmonium ("with a vacuum cleaner motor blower blowing into the ballasts") and tape-delayed saxophone. When he finally wanted a break, after hours of playing, he played back looped saxophone fragments recorded throughout the evening. Over the course of his career, Riley composed 13 string quartets for the Kronos Quartet ensemble, in addition to other works. In the 1950s he was already working with tape loops, a technology then in its infancy, and he has continued manipulating tapes to musical effect, both in the studio and in live performance, throughout his career. A Rainbow in Curved Air inspired Pete Townshend's synthesizer parts on the Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again" and "Baba O'Riley".

- lengthy footnote in honor of David Foster Wallace

   

---

This is my favorite fountain pen. I use it to write the first drafts of many of the the reviews and other creations of mine that you find all over the website. It's my red Rembrandt by Visconti.
— John