The Ghost of C_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The ever growing trend toward political correctness
in addressing the C_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ holiday, seems to have
snowballed this year.
Public schools and institutions are particularly
sensitive about using the “C” word in any pageants
or displays, ever mindful of the tenet we all hold so dear:
the separation of church and state. And while it is a concept
embedded in the very fiber of the republic, we nevertheless
wonder with some trepidation, about things like say…
how long that humongous tree in Rockefeller Center will continue
to stand uncontested.
And then of course, there is always economics
to consider. What retailer in his or her— political
correctness in the use of pronoun noted— right mind,
would want to limit sales potential, by using the “C”
word, and thereby jeopardizing, for example, that untapped
Scientologist market segment?
Of course, the “C” holiday long
ago became secularized so this is hardly news. But now, even
the secularized version of C_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ is causing consternation
in the public domain. That guy in the red suit with the flying
reindeer (and have the animal rights activists looked into
this as yet?), dispensing toys (and no doubt running a sweat
shop and violating union rules), has been coming under fire
as well. And who knows, maybe he should.
Not wanting to be out of step with where
future sensibilities might fall, we propose taking the pre-emptive
step of renaming “you know who”, and adopting a
new color-coordinated ensemble, to boot. As a picture is purported
to be worth 1,000 words (though perhaps say only 860 these days,
what with inflation), have a look below to get our drift:
And fear not. It should
be no problem to re-edit all the lyrics in the many songs
we have sung in homage to this plump fellow, lo these many
years. A few examples:
Tized is coming to town.”
“I saw mommy kissing Sani Tized”
“Here comes Sani Tized,
Here comes Sani Tized,
right down Sani Tized Way.”
“Then one foggy Holiday Eve, Sani came to say…”
Finally, we’d wish you a Happy New Year. But whose year?
And marked by what calendar? So I think we’ll take a
pass on this, and wish you all “A Good One” instead.
An Encounter With Sir Shadow
While attending a
20th anniversary fund raising event hosted by the Working
Theater in New York, honoring Harry Belafonte,
we happened upon a gentleman who goes by the name Sir
He sat at a nearby table, apparently doodling
throughout the evening’s proceedings: the great entertainment,
the speeches, the dinner that followed. Although… doodling?
That’s like saying we saw Itshak Perlman fiddling.
This man, Sir Shadow, is a virtuoso of “the
freehand line”— uninterrupted. Never lifting his
meandering felt pen from paper in the course of the minute
or so it takes him to finish, he turns out works of art that…well,
once again a picture being worth, etc… see below:
We bought an original 12”
x 18” sized illustration, similar to the one above.
The cost? “Whatever is in your heart”, said Sir
Shadow. Our heart said priceless, but we opened up our wallet
instead, and gave him something that seemed at least somewhat
worthy of his short time yet long talents.
And as he slipped it into his pocket,
unmindful of the denomination, he continued drawing and philosophizing:
“I call my writing and art work FLOWETRY; which is the
art of positive thinking in action.”
You too can have a piece of this “Flowetry”…
Gray was my favorite color…”
At the close of each year, The New York Times Magazine,
in a collection of essays, offers a review of some of the
more interesting people who have died in the past twelve months;
people who have "made a difference."
One such person profiled in this year's issue was Spalding
Gray. He committed suicide by jumping off the Staten
Island ferry last February. We couldn't help but recall the
line from our poem, "I Keep This Journal In Lieu Of Keepsakes"
(page 15; Shots From A Passing Car), which we have
reprised and emboldened as a title above.
We had first become aware of Spalding Gray in the early 70's
when he was starring in a Sam Sheppard play
The Tooth of Crime. It was performed in a small theater
in the then fledgling neighborhood of SoHo in New York.
He was a riveting on-stage presence, what with his cue-ball
head- when such baldness was still bold- and menace in his
eyes. But his "fame", as it were, was to come much
later as a monologist- of all things- in such film exercises
as Swimming to Cambodia, Monster in a Box
and It's a Slippery Slope.
What we loved about Mr. Gray, so aptly named, is that he was
constantly delving into gray matter and finding fresh insight
into commonplace occurrences. And that he managed to captivate
and hold one's attention with the spoken word alone, absent
any real set or props, save a table upon which rested a pitcher
of water and maybe a slide here and there on a screen behind
Many have said the suicide was inevitable. Is that not a
given for the tormented artist? It's all but a cliché.
But Spalding Gray- suicide aside- was a one-of-a-kind performing
artist. And to complete the thought expressed in the line
from our poem:
“Spalding Gray was
my favorite color;
black & white— clear-cut: my least.”
Old Painting; New
In December, we made our first
visit to the newly transfigured Museum of Modern Art
in New York. We will spare you a full review of our take on
the venue, other than to state in one sentence that: it is
a marriage of art and architecture made, if not in heaven,
then certainly in a place where there is no need for pre-nuptial
In the course of the six hours we spent
there, much caught our eye; stopped us in our tracks. While
too numerous to mention here, one particular “old”
painting veritably jumped off the wall at us, by virtue of
its hanging— not in a new place…but in “a
The Map (1978) by Jasper
Johns— a rendering of the United States—
was never a painting of which we took any special note. But
coming upon this work now, one is immediately struck by the
irony in the mish-mash of colors… red, blue, pink, orange,
turquoise, yellow, gray, etc spilling across state lines.
Implicit in this multi-layering of oils is that, so too, do
the many American cultures and differences co-exist and overlap
in vibrant harmony. All of the states (and us by extension)
are part of the same canvas, if you will. See below:
The Map (1978)
by Jasper Johns
this to the rigid Red State/Blue State color demarcations,
that have become so familiar on Election Day maps; that have
so come to define our political landscape with all its attendant
Eclectic Katie From
Last month it was an incredible
“Gen-Xer” (Jane Monheit). Now, this past month,
we have come across a “Gen-Yer”, whose voice and
style belie her 20 years. 20 years! We have cats older than
The name: Katie Melua.
The CD: Call Off the Search, which was number one
in the U.K. as “long ago” as January 2004.
Recently coming to the U.S. from
her homeland, she brings with her a rather eclectic mix of
songs and intriguing vocal inflections. Ms. Melua reminds
us in turn, of the likes of a Patsy Kline, Joni Mitchell,
Buffy St. Marie and Marianne Faithfull, to name a few. Elusive
as a butterfly, she is a singer hard to pin down.
Most of the songs on this CD are
written by a guy named Mike Batt, with some by Ms. Melua herself,
and one by Randy Newman (I Think It’s Going To Rain
Today). There’s also an old chestnut included called,
Learnin’ The Blues, which was recorded by Sinatra
in ’55, with much success. (Did ‘Ole Blue Eyes
ever experience anything less?).
Anyway, we don’t know whether
to congratulate her or burp her. You decide. Check her out…