Dave Chapelle/Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

I saw this on The Daily Dish. This is pretty funny, even in light of how funny it must not have been for Professor Gates the night of his arrest:

A Hilarious Dog Story

At least it is to me. I have had dogs all of my life. I love them an awful lot, and I consider myself somewhat of an expert in dog behavior. I mean that from the perspective of an expert observer of dog behavior. No, I still have to scream at Bailey to stop barking at mealtime, and I sometimes have to go out and fetch a Beagle-ish dog doing a nose-down perimeter walk of the back yard when it's time for bed. I can watch my dogs for hours. HOURS, I say. I even like watching them when they sleep.

As anyone who has a dog knows, dogs dream. Sometimes you notice a barely there twitch of a foot. Then two feet start moving. Sometimes you see all four legs going, as though they were on the scent of some critter - it would likely be a rabbit in my house, since my guys acted very gang-like once and trapped one...and killed it. We know it was Boo who done the deed, it's what Poodle-Terrier, uh, I mean Poodle-Terror mixes do. Occasionally the dog will whimper, and even the whimpers have level of intensity: a quiet, very quiet single yelp, or a series, that quick "woo-woo-woo" that Miller does. Fred sometimes has a little growly sound. Bailey is a mover-and-shaker, quite a silent dreamer.

But Homer did something altogether new in my experience of being a dog lover. He was sleeping soundly on the sofa next to Dana. We were watching The Next Food Network Star (which Melissa should win, by the way), and all of a sudden we hear this: Aaaooooooooooh. And then another: Aaaooooooooooh. Followed finally by: aaoooh.

Unbelievably adorable, it was. We didn't laugh howlingly, which is what we wanted to do, because we didn't want all of the boys to wake up. Everyone was sleeping. Dana did give Homer a comforting hug and pet, and he did stop the dream howling. And it was a happy, happy howling, nothing like the howling I get when I come home at lunchtime on Mondays, walk the boys, and then put Homer back in the crate and head back to the office. Yes, he's still being "crate" trained. He's fully housebroken, he's just still in that "everything-in-the-house-belongs-in-my-mouth phase". Unfortunately, that includes dog beds, which are too expensive to risk and very important in giving the impression that we have a modicum of control over all that dog hair.



Homer, he's a keeper.

100 Best Movie Lines...

...in 200 seconds.



Yes, I know, I am forever stealing good links from Andrew Sullivan. But the movie buff that I am simply could not resist this one.

Race in America

Here are my thoughts on this whole brouhaha...

Yes, Professor Gates overreacted. Yes, the police officer did, too. Obama reacted badly as well. But if anyone deigns to suggest that this country isn't still big-time fucked up about race, then that would make them big-time...jack-asses.

And that is the entirety of my thoughts on the subject. For today.

Matrix Ping Pong

I saw this over at The Daily Dish. This is very clever, and very funny.

My Favorite Blogger Gets a Big Shout-out

As most of you are aware, I just love Andrew Sullivan. His blog, The Daily Dish, is being covered by colleagues while Andrew is on special assignment last week and this week, but the fellas at The Dish linked to this great commentary on Andrew and his coverage of the Iranian elections and the continuing revolution. Here is the beginning of the commentary, followed by the url for the rest. And remember, you can always go check out Andrew from my link here, just over on the right.

THE WEEK.COM
The future belongs to Andrew Sullivan
Andrew Sullivan's coverage of the unrest in Iran was the blogosphere's moonshot, a feat of grit and daring heralding a new era in cyberspace. It was also a preview of journalism's future. Or seemed to be.
I couldn't help but notice that Andrew Sullivan wasn't blogging this past week. I noticed it in the same way one might notice a large sinkhole in the front of the house - something big and important was missing, and in its place was a void. Having been neither a particular fan nor detractor of Sullivan's long-ago tenure as editor of The New Republic, I'm a little surprised by how deeply I admire and rely upon his blog, the success of which seems at once a harbinger of a bright future for journalism and a sign of just how tenuous that future could be.

Read the rest of this commentary here: http://www.theweek.com/article/index/98673/The_future_belongs_to_Andrew_Sullivan

In Memorium: Walter Cronkite

Journalism has been on a downward spiral for a while, and I think there would be a lot of agreement out there that the plummet into "yes master" news reporting happened when we lost the likes of Walter Cronkite from the nightly airwaves. Integrity, honesty, selflessness, a work ethic in a world of egos where he left his ego at the door, if he ever really had one. If he did, he was smart enough and proper enough never to show it. He wore his heart on his sleeve more than once while in the anchor chair. We all remember his announcement of John F. Kennedy's death. Well, everyone who was aware enough at that time certainly remembers it. I was three years old then, but the image of Cronkite announcing the terrible news to the country is burned in my memory. It is one of those television moments that people never forget, or that you learn as an amazing part of the history of that moment on November 22, 1963.


Walter Cronkite was a huge fan of the space program. His giddy announcement of the landing of the lunar module was wonderful, and infectious. I have loved the space program and the idea of what it could mean to our world - certainly Star Trek and other great representations of how the world could be in the future in science fiction storytelling have also had a hand in this - since watching those brave and amazing astronauts land, and subsequently walk, on the moon. I think that a man in Walter Cronkite's position could react in such an emotional way on national television is pretty wonderful. We won't see his likes again. And that is so very sad.



For a great commentary on just what the world has lost with Walter Cronkite's passing, though one could say we lost all this long ago when Cronkite stepped down from the anchor desk, please read this appreciation and discussion of journalism today by Glenn Greenwald at Salon.com: http://www.salon.com/opinion/greenwald/2009/07/18/cronkite/

A Good Cry

Nothing can get me crying better than a great movie moment, or a great movie. I have been a certified (certifiable?) movie buff since I was nine years old and saw my first movie at a movie theater: "True Grit" at the Drive-in in Vineland, New Jersey. "True Grit" starred John Wayne as Rooster Cogburn. I had yet to develop my admiration for John Wayne as an actor - that would come years later during my high school and college years. In 1969 at the drive-in, I only had eyes for Glen Campbell, who had a small but important role in the movie. And no,
True Grit is not one of the movies that makes me cry.

Not every great movie on my greatest movies list has made me cry. And I'm sure that not-so-great movies had moments that have made me cry. I can't think of one right now, but the not-so-great movies rarely stick in my mind for very long. I absolutely love "Citizen Kane", but it isn't a movie that made my cry. It has other qualities to admire, not the least of which is a pretty amazing performance from the genius that was Orson Welles.

Yesterday I caught the last hour of "The Miracle Worker" on television. WARNING: There be spoilers ahead! I think it was on TCM, Turner Classic Movies. What a great channel! I have seen "The Miracle Worker" many, many, many times. You wouldn't think it could move me to tears still, but it does.

For those of you too young to know, for there is no good reason not to know this story unless you are too young, "The Miracle Worker" is a movie which was adapted from the original stage play by the playwright William Gibson, based on the early life of Helen Keller. Who, you ask, is Helen Keller? She was an American author, activist and lecturer who lost her hearing and her sight at the age of nineteen months. "The Miracle Worker" tells the story of how her family sought help for young Helen to give her a chance in life, to teach her a way to communicate and take her beyond the near total isolation that her blind/deaf situation left her.

Is "The Miracle Worker" a great movie? I believe that it is. Is it manipulative of its audience? Absolutely. But it's a manipulation that we as an audience welcome because the writer is so earnest and passionate in the telling of the story, and the performers are so perfect in bringing two extraordinary women to life. Anne Bancroft recreated her stage role as Annie Sullivan, the teacher whose own troubled eyesight and early life informed her hard line with Helen, an approach that nearly caused her to be fired before she'd even got started working with a then seven-year-old Helen.

Patty Duke recreated the role she played on the stage of Helen Keller. Patty Duke was amazing in this role. She was 16 years old, but there was no need to suspend disbelief in watching her performance; she was perfect, and held her own with the far more accomplished and experinced Bancroft.

The end of the movie is so moving, though it does hold its own share of controversy. You can check out the Wikipedia posting to see what I mean, but suffice it to say that the moment where Helen finally makes that connection between all those symbols that Annie has been repeating in the palm of her hand and the item that those letters from American Sign Language mean, the thrill of that moment of discovery, and joy and overwhelming understanding of what that moment would mean to young Helen...it is so emotional. I was nearly bawling yesterday as I watched, for the umpteenth time, this scene playing out. It is beautiful. I think it is made more amazing by the scene preceding it, to see Annie's frustrations at the Keller family and the possibility that all that she'd worked so hard for might be broken by a family that has too often fallen back on indulging the wild child that Helen had become, before Annie Sullivan came into her life.


So, what other movies, or scenes from movies, make me cry? There are certainly a number of movies that do, but these come immediately to mind. I think they are all worth your time to seek them out if you have not already seen them:

Out of Africa (the musical score is unbearably perfect and certainly contributes to my inability to watch this movie without crying)




The Natural(ditto the music, and should you read into anything that Robert Redford is in two of these movies? Maybe.)

To Kill a Mockingbird (true perfection in movie story-telling)


Brian's Song (yes, a TV movie, beautiful performances from James Caan and Billy Dee Williams)




Titanic (no, not one of my favorite movies, but seriously, who doesn't cry when Leonardo DiCaprio slips into the water...Gah!)


So, are there movies that have made you cry?

Remembrance

I wish that these people who are mourning the death of Michael Jackson, and by these people I mean the public and the family and friends who continue their mourning in public, could learn to mourn better for celebrities or others who have derived some fame for what they have done. I think the best way to mourn someone who has passed is in private, in your own thoughts and memories of that person and how he or she made you feel when they were alive. There are famous people who died long ago who I still mourn, but I rarely if ever talk about it. It's really for me to know and feel, and only for you to know if I feel like talking about it. Frankly, there has been too much said about Michael Jackson this week for my taste, and I am inclined to talk more about other people who have died and who I still miss decades later.

Or just two short years later.

Two years ago today, the opera singer Jerry Hadley shot himself in the head with an air rifle. He lingered on for eight days before finally passing away. He was a great singer, a great musician, and well-loved by those who knew and worked with him. He recorded one of my favorite albums ever, "Standing Room Only", a cross-over for the great American opera singer into Broadway.

His interpretations on this album are fantastic, his voice crystal clear, his diction superb and his sustained notes thrilling. Every song is wonderful on this CD, but my favorites are the opening one on this album, from Brigadoon, "Almost Like Being in Love", the great "What Kind of Fool Am I?" from "Stop the World - I Want to Get Off", with its dramatic, powerful last note, followed immediately by the beginnings, so quiet and emotional, of "Anthem" from the musical "Chess". He also recorded the complete version of "Show Boat" as well as Leonard Bernstein's "Candide" and "Mass" and was the autobiographical hero of Paul McCartney's "Liverpool Oratorio".

This is not to say that he wasn't a wonderful opera performer, as he was that, too. And he performed some of the more interesting and complicated of the repertoire, including "The Tales of Hoffman", "The Rake's Progress", created the title role in "The Great Gatsby" and a recorded for DVD performance at the Salzburg Festival in 1998 of Kurt weill's "Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny". It pains me when performers of this caliber end their own lives. It happens far too often. You could even say that Michael Jackson did it years ago.

I miss Bobby Darin. He was only 37 when he died of complications from heart surgery. He had heart problems since he was a child, brought on by a number of bouts of rheumatic fever. He knew that he only had a short time in this world to make an impact, and boy did he ever.

"Splish Splash", "Dream Lover", one of the greatest recordings ever made, "Mack the Knife", "Beyond the Sea", "Lazy River" and one of my personal favorites from his "folk period", "Simple Song of Freedom". He was a great singer and songwriter, and very smart. He was also a fine actor. He was nominated for a Golden Globe for his performance in "Pressure Point" and received an Academy Award nomination for supporting actor for his performance as a shell-shocked soldier opposite Gregory Peck in "Captain Newman, M.D." It was a terrific performance in an underrated film.

I listen to Bobby Darin and Jerry Hadley quite a lot. One has been gone over 30 years, the other just two.



Another performer that I loved was Pete Duel. He, like Jerry Hadley, shot himself. I was quite young when Pete Duel killed himself, and I was pretty inconsolable about it, but I remember, even back then, that I kept those feelings pretty much to myself. I think it is somewhat undignified for people to mourn so in public. I was 11 years old, and then, two years after Pete died, Bobby Darin died. It was a painful time. Pete didn't leave the mark in his few 30-some years that Bobby Darin did in his, but I loved him anyway. "Alias Smith and Jones" remains one of my all-time favorite shows; I think it was the perfect casting, with Ben Murphy as Kid Curry and Pete as Hannibal Heyes, two outlaws who were popular with "everyone but the railroads and the banks" because they never shot anyone. It was a sweet premise for a show, handled with great charm and humor. And chemistry is everything in these "buddy" shows and films, as Paul Newman and Robert Redford showed in the movie many say the series was based upon. I think Alias Smith and Jones was the very beginning of what, for me, grew to be a deep and abiding love of the American West. I cannot wait to get out West again. My one trip, with my Beagle Fred, was the great trip of my lifetime. Pete was also always picking up stray dogs and adopting others from shelters to add to his brood, and you know how I feel about that.

I adored Luciano Pavarotti, and I was lucky enough to live outside of Philadelphia when he was spending so much time there with his international vocal competition. I saw him in concert many times, I saw him perform "Tosca" and "La Boheme", one at the Mann Music Center and one at the Academy of Music. And Dana and I saw him and Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo at the "Three Tenors" concert at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles. I became a fan of opera in ninth grade when I took Italian as my foreign language elective. I had a handsome teacher, Mr. Mazzotta, and the Italian Club leader and my Italian teacher for the next three years, Cesarina DeCesero, afforded us many, many opportunities to see opera and listen to it in class. To my ear, Pavarotti was unique amongst tenors. The clarity of the Italian, for he certainly was unsurpassed in singing Italian opera and popular song, and the lyricism of his vocals was just beautiful. He made me cry so many times. Even though he was 72 when he died and hadn't really been singing much anymore, I still feel that he left too soon. But he had a brilliant, long career, and was considered the great tenor of his generation, and possibly of all time. He was my favorite tenor, and will be forever.