- So what if it’s NOT historically true?
- Is there any egg in a Chinese egg roll?
- Who was Jack Russell?
- Has anyone used “Jack Russell Terrier” as a nom de plume?
- Can brilliance compensate for lack of depth?
- Enemies? Present within? Or without?
- How are you supposed to answer, “How ya doin’?”?
- What’s that noise?
- What do I have to do to get my books banned?
- Is it better to have no taste than bad taste?
Tag: Funny
Things we still need a can opener for
I don’t eat canned soup anymore – can’t stand it, not after being upgraded at home.
Beer, meanwhile, has a tab or comes in a bottle.
So here are my reasons for not throwing our can opener into the trash:
- Tuna fish
- Tomato paste, as well as whole and diced tomatoes
- Sweet corn
- Sweet condensed milk
- Garbanzo beans (already softened)
- Pumpkin filling, not just for pies
- Coconut milk
- Chipotle
- Pineapple (not fresh)
- Baked beans
If we only had a dog or cat and their cans of pet food.
Among trendy folk
I’m really in the dark about what’s “in” these days, though I do get some glimmers through family.
So let me ask.
- Are Carhartt pants continuing to overtake blue jeans?
- Is Apple still preferred to Android?
- Depop for second-hand clothing. Is it the next eBay or etsy?
- Are Gmail addresses still tops? Or is email essentially going over to texts?
- Wraparound sunglasses? I’m finally noticing them.
- Paypal for online use rather than cards themselves? What about Venmo?
- I’m finally aware of Reddit. But what about Twitch?
- As for snacks: Doritos chips and salsas? Goldfish crackers? Oreos?
- Are Ugg boots and Crocs really making a comeback? As for Vans shoes?
- How long can vegan hold on?
Here these go again
The random notes in no particular order continue:
- Did college recruiters ever come to my high school? We weren’t elite and we weren’t any of the other demographics they were hot for. How about yours?
- Our high school guidance counselors did little more than sign you up for a draft card, as far as I can see.
- Genji was a definite historical character.
- Argentata chard … doesn’t taste like chard … hardier and cleaner than spinach.
- Gentrification versus decay.
- An inept lover, too charming by his very incompetence, unintentionally funky, nothing more than some everyday world seen through myopia. So why am I bothered?
- I love some of the drone videos filmed around here. But definitely not all.
- And then we learn that the mayor’s involved. As we said in the news biz, this story has legs.
- Yes, I remember Hudson, it’s up in the Cuyahoga Valley, a lovely New England style village not far from the Cleveland Orchestra’s summer home.
- Some writers place most or all of their plots in a particular locale, usually a big city or perhaps a state. Just never mine.
Here’s what bugs me about ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’
For reference, I’m focusing on the Amazon Prime video series, not the earlier books.
- Pop songs as a running commentary or an alternative dialog. This isn’t opera.
- The lack of positive male role models.
- The maudlin playing of the brothers’ mother’s death, especially after she’s gone. It definitely reduces her to a two-dimensional character.
- The fact it wasn’t filmed on Cape Cod, contrary to the story. The color of the water is wrong and the McMansion is so out of place, ultimately. Even the beaches are wrong. Where are the lobster boats?
- The way the story keeps evading the richer possibilities of polyamory or outright incest, which it keeps skirting. Instead, if the projections are correct, season three is going to veer off into one brother or the other, but not both together. That’s why I’m thinking I’ll be tuning out.
- Superficial treatment of so much.
- The flashbacks feel like a riptide. Just where are we at this point?
- The presence of a commercially published novelist as a major character. (I would object if she were a successful painter or actress or other fine artist for that matter – it’s simply rather incestuous creatively.)
- The way our Ugly Duckling’s mother, the writer, has so many lines of wisdom. She could be speaking in paragraphs.
- The difficulty I have in following slang, even when it’s the difference between “big bitch” and something else as an equivalent of beloved girlfriend.
Some things I’m anticipating in the year ahead
- Sitting beside our newly installed wood-burning stove on otherwise chilly mornings and evenings.
- Completing the second phase of our upstairs renovations along with moving into the back half up there, including my book collection when it comes out of storage.
- My second week on the water in the schooner Louis R. French.
- Revisiting my journals from the Baltimore years on.
- A magazine orgy.
- Renewed time with the Bible.
- Using my passport. We do live right next to Canada, after all.
- Events at the arts center.
- Continuing Quaker worship face-to-face rather than Zoom.
- Scallops in season as well as local blueberries, cranberries, lobsters, and crab.
A few things I’m grateful for in the past year
- A second presence in the house year-‘round. Plus our guests.
- Seeing the home renovations finally under way. And how.
- My maiden voyage in a ship overnight. As you’ll be seeing.
- A steady supply of real tomatoes, once they started arriving at the beginning of September, thanks to a serious, raised-bed garden already featured here at the Red Barn.
- Our new choral director. We may be a small community, but there’s some deep talent.
- The resurrected film society. The showings are followed by some serious discussion into the wee hours.
- Contradances, too, both here in Eastport and at the Common Ground Fair.
- My appearances resulting from Quaking Dover. You can still find some of them online.
- Scallops in season. (And local blueberries, cranberries, lobsters, and crab.)
- All the eagles I observed during the alewives’ run and additional encounters after. Always inspiring.
Well, maybe this should go somewhere
Still more random notes in no particular order:
- Why so many churches? Only an unbeliever would ask.
- Note the hippie vibe of Pride Day. Like a time warp.
- The jolt of phoning someone and preparing to respond to the voicemail only to have a live voice pop up instead.
- Keys that don’t fit anywhere.
- It’s a Catholic church too small to conduct bingo games.
- I’m spending as much time keyboarding as ever.
- All those years I worked five-day weeks every holiday ‘cept maybe Christmas Eve. Or commuted in atrocious weather.
- What is literature? And why does it matter?
- She strikes me as little more than skin-deep beauty.
- What do you like about Christmas?
A shoutout some outstanding vocal ensembles
With the holidays just ahead, we’re coming up on the prime choral season of the year.
Look around, and there are many outstanding groups, not just the big, famed organizations in the footsteps of conductors Robert Shaw, Roger Wagner, Margaret Hillis, or John Oliver, either.
Hit on some of these on YouTube or Vimeo and let me hear what you think.
- Old Order Mennonite Harmonia Sacra. Let’s start from an old American shape-note tradition of harmony. Singing from the 1832 hymnal compiled by Joseph Funk in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, this video will likely lead you to others in this unique stream, including the Shenandoah Christian Music Camp. I’m inclined to sing along, using some much later Mennonite hymnals. Imagine an entire congregation singing parts like this, and many do. Eventually, it may even lead you to the unique Sacred Harp style. If you want to talk about American roots, don’t overlook this. I’m forever indebted to my exposure in this vein. So where do we turn from here? How about something completely different in the religious vein:
- Detroit Mass Choir. This large, tightly disciplined urban body runs flawlessly, turning on a dime when director Jimmy Dowell spontaneously decides to repeat a phrase or section or even jump back several parts or similarly ahead. Their take on Charles Tindley’s 1905 “The storm is passing over” is outstanding. Yeah, it’s one more place where stony unemotional me gets teary. That confessed, don’t overlook the instrumentalists, either. And I, for one, do appreciate the audience support throughout, something my mother would have considered interruptive and rude.
- Jehovah Shalom Acapella. And you thought the King’s Singers or Cambridge Singers epitomized the small, elite, all-male a cappella field? This six-member Ugandan Gospel group, members of the Seventh-day Adventist faith, delivers with an unbelievably smooth pop style. Where, by the way, do they find such an incredibly deep bass? Now, if we only knew how they’d handle Handel, Bach, and Mozart as well, we might have even more cause for amazement. By the way, we’ve also delighted in live performances by athletic Ladysmith Black Mambazo.
- Central Washington University chamber choir. Within a higher education state institution in tiny Ellensburg, well east of the Cascade Range and Seattle, there’s long been an outstanding fine arts program. In such situations, a few good teachers can make a lasting impression. (I hate to think of the destructive obverse.) Under the direction of Gary Weidenaar in works by contemporary Ola Gjeilo or Renaissance master Tomas Luis da Victoria , these student singers reflect, I feel, the high standards found in many other pockets across America – and not just its great conservatories and leading music schools. Returning to the shape-note tradition:
- Amherst Madrigals. In William Billings’ “Euroclydon,” a distinctive masterpiece, these ten singers blow me away. It’s a very demanding piece, after “all. And they present it so clearly, with no conductor in sight! For further confirmation, listen to what they do his “I am come into my garden.” Or, for pure polyphony, move onto another group for this:
- Indiana University’s Conductor’s Chorus. Their master’s of music performance of Palestrina’s “Sicut cervus” for conductor Daam Beam Kim in 2016 is unbeatable. After seemingly endless rehearsals and a few public performances of this choral masterpiece, I can’t imagine anything more ethereally sublime than this. Period. Even as an IU grad.
- Saint Olaf College Choir. This Minnesota Lutheran institution makes some incredible music. The diction in their videos and recordings leaves me envious, and their annual Christmas broadcast is understandably anticipated and admired. Still, compare their rendering of William Billings’ “What wondrous love is this” to one led by Ukrainian conductor Yuriy Kravets and the Shenandoah Christian Music Camp orchestra and choir, previously noted. Both are deeply moving.
- Luther College. Set along the upper Mississippi River in Decorah, Iowa, this church institution also has a superb musical program. Just listen to what its Nordic Choir can do. I’m even more impressed when I notice they sing their parts from memory and then their ease in navigating dynamics. Oh, my, that soon leads to a Baton Rouge high school performance that definitely stands out. Yes, high school.
- Quoddy Voices. My current chorus is an amazing group in a small remote fishing village with an active arts scene in easternmost Maine. Still, we would really welcome some younger voices. During the Covid restrictions, director John Newell put together some remarkable virtual presentations online, despite the fact we were recording individually under some highly unfavorable conditions. Now that we’re back face-to-face, I’m also delighted and humbled to be part of this circle and its stellar leadership.
- Boston Revels. A unique half-century-old organization that blends history, folk traditions and classical music, dance, plus theatrical acting and story line, I have to admit a bias in being part of the organization though not its justly celebrated annual winter holidays extravaganza. Each year’s Christmas show ends with the entire audience joining in, in full harmony, on the Sussex Mummers’ Carol, inevitably drawing tears from me and, I suspect, most others in the packed and wildly cheering Sanders Theater at Harvard. As a charter member of its community chorus, I do confess this family custom is one thing I do miss in relocating to Way Downeast Maine. Thanks for the memories, all the same.
You seldom know what you’ll find in an old barn


Well, it is the premise of this blog. For the record, a lot of our junk was stored under this floor, though this barn in York, Maine, was never ours.