In 1964, Dylan and his entourage stopped in Flat Rock and made an unannounced visit to see Carl Sandburg
who he admired as a poet.
Dylan was annoyed when he realized that Sandburg, while polite,
wasn't very impressed with him.
There are a few versions of the story of their meeting, but the one in Anthony Scaduto's biography of Dylan is the best.
The rumour was that Bob tried to trade the tractor on his farm in Hibbing for Carl's. Needless to say, the deal did not go down.
oh it was just a gentle historical ribbing PO -the image is of t paine -the fellow who among other things popularized the term "common sense" -my comment was a friendly hint to nudge you along.
Meanwhile we return to our rollicking flames programming -keep it up folks, this ones a gem.
It's a dim gray day again, reminiscent of the one Betty was last seen on at the Library. Looks like I might have to take her to Vegas, not London. Cool, maybe we can visit some lowlifes we each know.
Peripatetic pairings.
The day is louring. Like in The Road by CMac. Not Kerouac. And not the new boy CMac with the puppet stringy-thingies. Cormac Mac. Oooooh, that guy. It's a day that reminds me of certain book, all you Lizzes that I have known, know, will maybe know, including Betties--Liz's Aunt Betty, Beatrice, really, but WTF cares; her sister Betty Rose, still just Betty, no Elizabeth; Liz one whom I was out of wed with due to under-ageness; Liz two, whom I bed, awed and wed; Betty the Librarian;Betty, the Rev's mom; neebee, 'nother motherly lzzie-from-lulu-land (hi sigh there, "fire-sitter"); the list seems endlizz, but the point is, they were/are all readers, whereas I only have Lenna Louise left to talk to whose brother I am, who has, unfortunately, only read Stephen King, as far as I can tell, and that was based on my mom's recommendation which was her go-to standard, her mom's taste. She reads only the paper, TV commercials, and some shyt on the net. The lovely ladies the Lizzes 'n betties, all read, all the time. Or did.
I'm thinking of The Stand, of course.
Read On Writing.
Credit: mouse from merced
If one listens to The Incubus' dialog, alone, it's fairly easy to pick out phrases you understand, and it was this afternoon that I shared a game of Scrabble and the last of my dad's Jack Daniels with Marcel Simon that we did this.
Kia's name's prounounced keye'-uh, she's no car. And Amael's is pronounced ah'-meye-el.
Robert Walker listening to himself die drinking Johnny Walker.
Credit: mouse from merced
And what was that kid's name, the one you guys claimed you, uh, "found in a tree?" At least that's what Randy said once.
zBrown, what's love got to do with it?
Scene from The Incubus.
Kia: why can't the Incubus rise up out of the fire [of Hell] and slaughter them [the ones on their way to choosing Hell] like sheep?
Amael: A soul cannot be forced to joun the Legions of Hell. Each one is given a choice, and when they choose to come to meet us, we then greet them.
Kia: Sister, I want more that that. Surely the God of Darkness would welcome the capture of a noble soul, clean and good--free of taint, without a shadow of corruption?
Amael: Sister, be careful! Felice, atentu!
Kia: I have powers, Amael, powers that must be tested!
Amael: You don't know what goodness is!
Kia: I want to know! I want to find a Saint [Shatner] and cut him down, corrupt him, crush him, put my foot on his holy neck, make him rave and howl and bleed and weep then send him plunging down to the Inferno!
Amael: Kia, nay!
Kia: Then, I would be a demon! Then, I would be the Beast God's best daughter!
Amael: Sister, I warn you! Keep away from the good! They carry a power that rules the heart. A great power, mysterious, profound, far beyond your understanding.
Kia: Power? What power?
Amael: The power of love. La potenco de la amo.
"What we have here, is a failure to communicate. What we have here are too few cooks stirring the pot, if you ask me. But what the hell do I know? I just run the place? What we have here, isn't so much a collabor-A-tion, so much as it is a collabortion!"--you should pardon the phrase, it was one I typed to neebee, only it came out thus, thus a typo for the ages is a boon for my pages--"So give me ten sentences in ten minutes, you Yardbirds, or you'll all go to Canary Row. Solitary, I mean."--Sheriff K. Neil Diamond in Cool Hand Finger Puppets
Looking at the Stones do Sympathy for the Devil again this afternoon before Marcel came and lost
Credit: mouse from merced
at Scrabble, I came across a trick I haven't ever seen, but which reminds me of the double towers of flames which came shooting out of the two towers of the Stones' stage.
Weedish torch, anyone?
It takes me back to one moonlit night in late September on the Pohono Trail, BooDawg.
This looks like a good survival, or even a simple amaze your pals trick. Make sure you have sufficient clearance if you try this at home, both from the spouse and the house. And the pit's down to bedrock or some such. This looks adaptable to a lot of uses.
Has anyone here taken bottle rockets to a summit, like Shasta, and lit them off? Golf club and balls? Pocket parachutes?
"Does the size of a man's 'chute really mean anything besides greater air resistance?"--extra credit project in sixth grade
Credit: Google Images
I also spotted this among my dad's stuff.
Credit: mouse from merced
We all know/learn important stuff too late or never. Just passing some along, FWIW, and just in case someone might know anyone getting married sooner or later...
Horse tails indeed, and bull pizzles and gnarly old bones like these stories:
1,001 Arabian Nightmares.
The Night They Burned Foresta Down. i believe it was in '88 or in '89. But we talked about that. A three-fire night.
It's old Mister Bemingham, lost in Laredo with the Fresno-to-Modesto blues again.
Little Pink houses. Pink strings. Pink Mice. Blue mice.
Plinka-plinka pinkgrass revivalist, three-times nominated non-archivalist, but I've never yet had a pink lady of this persuasion or hue.
Credit: mouse from merced
C'est gris, podda rose-A. The perfect color for today.
I'm green, she's grey, the fire's hot, there are orange peels and some matches and quite a lot of rose-A left, so bring that bottle over here...
Gray lady, gray.
Gray hair, eyes, or mood, there's nothing that the words "I love you" don't enhance or simply change the outlook of among any of these three. And the ethereal touch of a warm heart and a warm fire between old flames and old Flames is one of the best things ever, two actually, to cure blues.
Let's make some plans.
I want a 150' pink rope and a 165' blue rope for Xmas. This is a symbol of a relationship. The male is the blue, and the female is the shorter pink one. They work like this. There should never be a question of which to pull on rappel. Always pull pink. Never pull blue. There is ALWAYS more length you can rappel if you put the knot down five feet from the rap anchor tah if you only have two 150s and it weighs less than two 165s. It's a clumsy metaphor. But I thought of it myself, so I'm sticking to it.
So I don't have to go to the trouble of drawing a picture, thelove is like a rappel rope metaphor: Only do it if you can't avoid it. Don't actively seek it. It will find you.
Credit: mouse from merced
"Super dry, preferably."--Kevin Kline in January Man
With your sheet-metal memory of Telegrah Av
And your magazine-husband who one day just had to leave
And your gentleness now, which we can't help perceive
Who among them do you think would you like to have?
[platonic kweskion]
Sad-eyed lady of the uplands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Oh, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
Am I digging the Yardbirds with Dylan?
Not so tough, cuz the bigger they are, the harder they fall. But the elephant diagram is a stumper.
Am I seein' a bum on Canary Crow?
I pity those poor immigrants.
Are those snakes on the right plane?
This burgundy's gray. It's sad, like that lake of tears. Naw, I dig the reservoir not, you dog.
You so cryptic, zBrown. But transparent. No fue you.
I'm glad, I'm so very glad, I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad.--The Cream Dream, never released
I'm so glad that I'm So Glad and that there's thread being devoted to Cream all over again.
Let us know!