Patriot's Day, Boston Marathon, Tradition, Etc.

     

Tucson Weather Today


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BOSTON MARATHON

On April 19, 1897, John J. McDermott of New York won the first Boston Marathon with a time of 2:55:10. Fifteen runners started the race but only 10 made it to the finish line.

The Boston Marathon was originally held on Patriot's Day, April 19, a regional holiday that commemorates the beginning of the Revolutionary War.

Since 1969, the holiday has been observed on the third Monday in April, providing a three-day long weekend, as well as being the first day of public school vacation week in Maine and Massachusetts. Previously, it had been designated as April 19 in observance of the anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord, the first battles of the American Revolutionary War.

Patriot's Day, and The Boston Marathon are now venerated traditions, regarded in Massachusetts with great respect and reverence.

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How much longer, I wonder, will politicians, officials, and so called businessmen be ruled by foolish 'fashion,' and wear those ridiculous suit-coats, vests, and nicely colored neckties?

Neckties. Good Lord!

"Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity."
--Ecclesiastes 1:2

Hey! What ever happened to 'spats?'

 Spats

Puttin' On The Ritz

Spats emerged in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century as a fashion accessory, evolving from the "spatterdashes" worn to keep mud out of walking boots into a fashion accessory to dress up any pair of shoes.

How about pajamas and other assorted sleep ware, and such?

Do you remember the poem, T'was Night Before Christmas, originally titled A Visit From Saint Nicholas, and the reference to:

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap...

To what exactly do her kerchief and my cap refer?

A nightcap is a warm cloth cap worn while sleeping, often with pajamas or a nightgown. Women's night caps usually consisted of a long piece of cloth (kerchief) wrapped around the head.

Nightcaps are not often worn in modern times, although they are easily obtained from, for example, better class gentlemen's outfitters.

Just sayin'.

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WORD FOR TODAY

chunter
verb (British Informal)
-  to grumble or grouse mildly or tediously.
-  to mutter or grumble incessantly in a meaningless fashion.

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CELEBRITY BIRTHDAYS


Jayne Mansfield
(April 19, 1933 – June 29, 1967)

 

Jayne Mansfield (born Vera Jayne Palmer) was an American actress in film, theater, and television, a nightclub entertainer, a singer, and one of the early Playboy Playmates. She was a major Hollywood sex symbol of the 1950s and early 1960s. Mansfield was 20th Century Fox's alternative Marilyn Monroe and came to be known as the Working Man's Monroe. She was also known for her well publicized personal life and publicity stunts. She was the mother of actress Mariska Hargitay from her second marriage to actor-bodybuilder Mickey Hargitay. In 1967 Mansfield died in a car accident at the age of 34.

Dick Sargent
(April 19, 1930 – July 8, 1994)

 

Dick Sargent, born Richard Stanford Cox, was an American actor, notable as the second actor to portray Darrin Stephens on the television series Bewitched. He appeared in The Great Locomotive Chase starring Fess Parker, Operation Petticoat starring Cary Grant, and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken starring Don Knotts.  In 1991, Sargent publicly declared his homosexuality and supported gay rights issues. He lived with his domestic partner, Albert Williams, until his death in 1994.

Kate Garry Hudson
(born April 19, 1979)

 

Kate Hudson is an American actress. She came to prominence in 2001 after winning a Golden Globe and receiving several nominations, including a nomination for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress, for her role in Almost Famous. She then starred in the hit film How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003) which gained her wider fame. She has since established herself in Hollywood after starring in several productions including Raising Helen (2004), The Skeleton Key (2005), You, Me and Dupree (2006), Fool's Gold (2008) and Bride Wars (2009). She currently appears in the musical comedy-drama television series Glee as Cassandra July.

Hugh O'Brian
April 19, 1925)

 

Hugh O'Brian, (born Hugh Charles Krampe) is an American actor, known for his starring role in the ABC television series The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp (1955–1961).

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It takes an endless amount of history to make even a little tradition.
--Henry James
    

Da Bears Beat The Packers Last Night

According to a news story football player George Blanda died yesterday at age 83.

George Blanda

I remember George Blanda when he played for the Chicago Bears with the great Johnny Lujack back in the early 1950s when I was a sub-teen and "da Bears" used St. Joe College for their training camp in my old hometown of Rensselaer, IN where I saw many of their scrimmages and some of their exhibition games back then.

. . .

The Science Fiction contest for writers that I have mentioned a couple times earlier is drawing closer. The opening date is October 1, 2010. Take a gander at the contest rules on the website if you are a Science Fiction writer. In case you missed it, the URL is:

http://www.williamledbetter.com/contest.htm

Good luck.

. . .

While researching Odysseus I discovered: After turning Homer’s epic poem The Iliad into the 2004 film Troy, Warner Brothers and Brad Pitt are teaming with George Miller to adapt the Greek poet’s other masterwork, The Odyssey. Their intention is to transfer the tale to a futuristic setting in outer space.

In Homer’s The Odyssey, the story picks up where The Iliad leaves off, telling the adventures of Odysseus on his way home from the Battle of Troy, although the movie version will obviously be somewhat different. The movie is scheduled for a 2012 release, and is in pre-production at Warner Brothers studios.

Odysseus

I wonder if this film is still scheduled for release in 2012? Haven't heard anything about it lately. And I don't feel like going to the trouble of looking it up on the web.

Time will tell.

. . .

Eating Dannon Yogurt has convinced me that their Light & Fit product is the best I've ever tasted, and since their prices are always moderate to low I have become a repeat purchaser, consuming approximately one cup per day, often favoring the Peach flavor, although I also enjoy the taste of their Blueberry and Key Lime flavors.

Aw heck! I like all the flavors.

Additionally, the Dannon folks often run promotions, such as winning prizes for periodic contests by entering a code from the underside of Light & Fit covers.

Right now the promotion is Dannon's pledge to contribute ten-cents to the National Breast Cancer Foundation, Inc. for each such code entered at their Charity website. and I have been entering my codes (always one, sometimes two) each day.

(Click image for larger view)

The above is not a commercial for Dannon but merely an informative factoid for your edification.

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From the King James Bible -- Ecclesiastes 1:2

Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.

Such stark and deliberate wisdom. All is vanity. Three words that effectively negate all other words written in the book. Three words that say it all (to they who have ears to hear) about the purpose and meaning of human life.

Think about it.

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"Courage is the art of being the only one who knows you're scared to death!"
--Earl Wilson

Writing, Writers, And Critics

I have been freely offering my honest opinions about their latest stories and poems to any and all writers who ask me for them. But lately I've been wondering if this is such a good idea. After all... who am I to give advice? What the hell do I know about story writing? Or creating poems? Perhaps the suggestions I give to potential authors and poets are completely wrong. Maybe I am doing terrible harm to budding geniuses.

What qualifies me to be a critic?

Here is some advice from a famous fellow:

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
--Theodore Roosevelt.


Right now, at this very instant, I am considering a sudden stop to all of my supposed suggestions for story-writing improvement. For all I know, there might be some slyly clever and knowledgeable scholarly soul out there who, after craftily submitting a work of fiction for my evaluation (as a joke) sits boozing it up with a clutch of his literate friends -- and they all laugh and laugh and laugh at my pedestrian comments regarding his latest effort.

The endeavor known as creative writing is too serious to be taken lightly.

. . .

Yesterday I accompanied Mike to the local public library and while he completed his business inside I browsed the For Sale shelves in the lobby; I bought two books: The Bodies Left Behind by Jeffery Deaver and Wet Work by Christopher Buckley. The were hard cover and in excellent condition, and they cost only $3 each. Didn't even have to go inside to pay for them. There was a small slotted box attached to the shelf with a sign that read: Drop Payment Here.

How about that?

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One line I read in a fiction-story excerpt from a Work In Progress on a Writer's blog: "You need something else to compare it too?” caused me to stop reading, and that damnable inner-editor of mine said to myself: "Should that not be 'compare it to' instead of 'compare it too' -- and I replied to myself, "Oh, it's probably just a typo..."

. . .

Poetry fascinates me, but I am so damned ignorant of its many facets. Some of the older works, the rhyming rhythms of lesser-known poets who wrote of down-home country folks always makes me sigh (in a sickeningly nostalgic way) and murmur (No... mutter) "Now, that's poetry." But much of modern poetry seems, to me, to be nothing more than prose with arbitrary line breaks to signal that it is to be labeled a poem.

I must admit, though, that I like to occasionally try my hand at my own style of modern poetry, trying always to use imagery to illustrate nostalgic but emotionally charged recollections that spring up from some private place in my memory. In doing this I tend to use too many words, to attempt a detailed description more amenable to straight prose than to any form of poetry. And the poems suffer for it.

After receiving helpful criticism from those who are well-versed (pun absolutely intended) in the (formless?) forms of modern poetry I try to pare down my stuff and make it conform to the suggested scholarly formless-forms, but in the process the poem at hand seems to cease being my work and instead becomes the product of the times.

Something like that.

Perhaps I should do what I have done at times in the past: merely write my poems (and my stories) the way I want to write them, then publish them on my website and just not worry and fret with perpetually petulant pursed lips (grin) as to whether or not they are read by anyone else but me... after all, what is accomplished by being a successful highly-read poet, or even a well-known author of prose? A slight heightening of personal vanity? After I am dead and vanity is vanished it will certainly not matter (to me) if my writings continue to be read by the phantom (non-existent, to me) wraiths of the still living.

Right?

. . .

Raggedy Red Wild Flowers Growing Alongside The Road

(Click for larger view)

An eagle was sitting on a tree resting, doing nothing. A small rabbit saw the eagle and asked him, Can I also sit like you and do nothing? The eagle answered: Sure, why not. So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the eagle and rested. All of a sudden, a fox appeared, jumped on the rabbit and ate it.

Moral of the story: To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very, very high up.

Adornment

I have( too) often heard it sad, "Oh, how handsome you look in that tuxedo" -- but to me dressing up in formal clothing is ridiculous. I just can't see the point of it.

John Grisham said: "Writers can wear anything. I could go to a black-tie dinner in New York City with blue jeans on and boots and a cowboy hat and a bow tie, and people would just say, 'Oh, he's a writer.'

Thank goodness that I call myself a writer.

Even the plant world, it seems, seeks to enhance its appearance.

Here is a trio of Saguaro (pronounced Suh-WHARR-oh, I think) Cactus in Mike's backyard pool area. They are, at this time of year, sporting floral crowns.

Here's a closeup of one of the flowers

Of course, the ornate tiara helps the viewer to ignore the painful ugliness of the thorny hide that supports it.

I've been told that the crown of flowers usually open up during the nighttime when the (fruit?) bats are flitting about. Pollination, and such.

I have also been told that the Saguaro does not develop its signature 'arms' until it reaches the age of 100 years.


One can read all the facts about the Saguaro at Wikipedia


While sitting in a medical waiting room I was treated to the sight of an extremely obese young lady who displayed a pearl stud within her nose-piercing, a crimson rose tattoo on the back of her neck, and a (diamond?) jeweled bracelet biting into the ample flesh of her artlessly exposed ankle.

I did feel that she was not as attractive as are those startlingly-white desert flowers adorning the head of a Saguaro.

But, as always... what do I know?