Sound.

Sound man, Brendon ...

Spirit.

Reflect that nothing merits admiration except the spirit, the impressiveness of which prevents it from being impressed by anything.

Seneca, from Letters from a Stoic

Those were heady days.

Rusticated.

Roses.

God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.

J.M. Barrie, from "Courage: The Rectorial Address" at St. Andrew's University, May 3, 1922

Tom T. Hall. "Old Dogs, Children, and Watermelon Wine"

I was sittin' in Miami pourin' blended whiskey down

When this old gray black gentleman was cleanin' up the lounge

There wasn't anyone around, 'cept this old man and me

The guy who ran the bar was watchin' Ironsides on TV

Uninvited, he sat down and opened up his mind

On old dogs and children and watermelon wine ...

It's sandwich time.

Attics.

Beanies.

Heady.

Heady days they were.

Thanks, Kurt.

Microgramma.

Pile.

Amateur Night is approaching.  Stay in and pile thirteen hours of long-playing, microgrooved, nonbreakable stereophonic platters on the hi-fi ...

Designed for dancing with no interruption between numbers.

Kurt suggests a worthy addition ...

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, "Kings Road"

'Bout time to drive the Coronet to The Berry Barn and load some heavy ordnance  ...

Pete Rose, Rest in Peace

Charlie Hustle has passed.

Miss.

Secretiveness.

John Bulmer, the great British photographer celebrated for his 1960s photos of the industrial north of England, is less well known for these early images of the secret night climbers at Cambridge University ...

John Bulmer was in his second year of an engineering degree at Cambridge University in the late 1950s when a recently graduated friend tipped him off about the night climbers, a secretive group of students who spent their nights scaling the tops of the college buildings. Though he wasn’t keen on heights, as a photographer who had already started to sell pictures to the national press, the opportunity was too good to pass up. So he started tracking their movements, enlisting a helper to fire off an old-fashioned flashbulb as he worked. “I wanted to photograph them in their environment, so quite often I used wide angle lenses and open flashes, because you can’t climb up a building with a tripod,” he explains.

There was a good reason for the secretiveness. Night climbing had been a thing in Cambridge for many decades – a pseudonymous book about it, now a collector’s item, was published in the 1930s – and punishment for anyone caught on the rooftops was instant expulsion. On one occasion, Bulmer and his helper narrowly escaped an encounter with some college staff by hiding behind a pillar: “We heard one saying to another: ‘That’s odd. Looks like lightning up there.’” On another, in his hurry to escape capture, he impaled himself on some ferocious spikes, leaving a permanent scar.

Gears.

Suggestions.

Nerf.

0:22 ...

Weep.

Directed by Chet Forte ...

The world isn't getting to me.  The shootings, the knifings, the beatings, old ladies being bashed in the head for their social security checks, teachers being thrown out a fourth-floor window because they don't give As -- that doesn't bother me a bit.  

You know what does bother me?  You know what makes me really sick to my stomach?  It's knowing Howard Cosell isn't in the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

NFL Films' Cosell feature.  Watch -- and weep, for there are no more gods ...

Glorious.

I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones -- the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.

Beryl Markham, from West with the Night

This is bullshit, of course, but interesting to consider.  

In any way, possible or impossible, real or imagined, keep going back to the fields and forests, streams and seas of the glorious past.  Gods live there.

Drive-Thru.

From the October 2, 1981 issue of The Denisonian ...