2006 A.D.

One more calendar day, it will be the year 2006. Properly stated, it is "2006, Anno Domini Nostri Iesu Christi" (2006, in the year of our Lord Jesus Christ).

World history revolves around anno domini nostri iesu christi. Whether one is Christian or not, it is immaterial. His days on this earth are bounded by this calendrical dating. The world is bound by this calendar as well.

It behooves us not to shrug off this dating convention, or to simply hiding the anti-Christian sentiments by changing the A.D. to C.E. (Common Era). There is nothing common or ordinary about Christ's birth we'd just celebrated.

Each of us will walk a chosen path in 2006, in the year of our Lord Jesus Christ. So then, will we ever learn and remember to number our days, and apply our hearts unto wisdom in the new year God thus favors us?

Finished Reading the Latest Weber

Over the Christmas holidays, I read the latest David Weber's space warfare saga, "At All Costs."

Long range military battles between opposing forces were determined in matters of minutes. Missiles rained in thousands at any one engagement. Colossal carnage measured in the thousands and millions. But as they say, "in space, no one can hear you scream."

A most satisfactory read of another Honor Harrington space opera, at the cost of staying up very late at nights.

Men are Childish

She said: "...I don't know if I really understand him or not maybe I'm wearing a mask that I don't see the truth. Or maybe I'm completely wrong. Men are childish ..."

I retorted: Eros makes promises (and some other comments).

She, by the way, is a graduate student doing bio-medical studies. If my comments piqued her curiosity, then there's a flicker of hope and room for discussion. She might even condescend to reconsider that not all men are rude and boorish.

I am cautiously optimistic there is a man she will meet someday that will sweep her off her feet. It will take a Petruchio to her Katharina.

Let's Go On A Sleigh Ride!

Click on this link and listen to a delightful piano version of Leroy Anderson's 'Sleigh Ride'.

Selection Expired on 12-30-2005: Eteri Andjaparidze (piano)- Sleigh Ride

It's Christmas Day

"And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." -- Isaiah 9:6, KJV.

And the angel said unto them, "Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." -- Luke 2:10-11, KJV.

MERRY CHRISTMAS ONE AND ALL!

A CHRISTMAS CAROL
By Josiah Gilbert Holland (1787-1900)

THERE'’S a song in the air!
There'’s a star in the sky!
There'’s a mother'’s deep prayer
And a baby's low cry!
And the star rains its fire while the Beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king.

There'’s a tumult of joy
O'’er the wonderful birth,
For the virgin's sweet boy
Is the Lord of the earth.
Ay! the star rains its fire and the Beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king.

In the light of that star
Lie the ages impearled;
And that song from afar
Has swept over the world.
Every hearth is aflame, and the Beautiful sing
In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King.

We rejoice in the light,
And we echo the song
That comes down through the night
From the heavenly throng.
Ay! we shout to the lovely evangel they bring,
And we greet in his cradle our Saviour and King.

Bing Sings White Christmas

Click on this link and listen to Bing Crosby and company sing:

Selection Expired on 12-24-2005: White Christmas

Go Ahead, Make My Day

I have no problem whatsoever in this Christmas season saying, "Merry Christmas" to fellow Americans here in these United States. Beside the good tidings associated with the celebration of Christ's birth, the Congress has sanctioned Christmas Day as a legal holiday. So there!

The anti-Christian elitists could immigrate to the Province of Manitoba, Canada, and reinstate the "multi-cultural" tree and greet the folks there with, "A Merry Multi-Cultural Day."

That will make my day.

Good Cheers and Glad Tidings

Pounds of popcorns, snacks, and other goodies were delivered to fellow staff at the agency early this morning.

More Christmas gifts are in store for delivery to the clan and neighbors the next few days.

Fourth Sunday of Advent - Joy

"But these are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name." -- John 20:31, KJV

O Magnum Mysterium
(English translation of the Latin Text)

O great mystery, and wondrous sacrament
that animals should see the new-born Lord lying in their manger
Blesses is the Virgin, whose womb was worthy
to bear the Lord Jesus Christ, Alleluia

Everything is Ducky

It's a blustery and raining day. The outdoor temperature is hovering at 57°F/14°C. All things considered, the seasonal weather is better here in California than, say, at the Great Lakes or Calgary, Canada.

It took me practically two worship services this morning to track down all of the principal church staff. All of them, including their spouses, received Duck Bucks for dinner (certificates) at Mallard this Christmas.

Christmas Shopping

This morning I bought these special treats available only at our open air farmers market.

10 bags of small kettle popcorns
4 bags of large kettle popcorns
5 pounds of cappucino almond
3 pounds of seasame walnut

Today is Ludwig's Birthday

Ludwig van Beethoven December 16, 1770 - March 26, 1827
Selection Expired on 12/20/2005:
Jacques Loussier Trio (Jazz): Variation No. 1 on Beethoven's 7th, 2nd Movement, Allegretto

Christmas Luncheon

Several units on our floor got together for our annual Christmas luncheon. We had a cater Tri-Tip fare with several side dishes and desserts. And earlier this morning, we at special services also got together for a birthday celebration and cake.

It was certainly a bountiful day, food wise.

Christmas Blog Template Fixed for IE

It displease me whenever I write a web page that concessions have to be made to accomodate the drab desktop IE. My latest web development exercise could very well be the last straw.

Case in point. Few days ago, I worked out this Christmas Blog template in Firefox. The Christmas image on the upper left hand corner displayed fine with the Firefox browser and with the hand-held PDA equipped with IE. Alas, the picture would not show nor stayed put when viewed with the desktop IE running on Windows XP. Yet, it viewed fine with IE on the Windows 2000 Professional. Go figure.

I've ignored this "bug" for several days, but it really bugged me. Anyway, to make the long story short, I fixed the IE glitch tonight. Now the Christmas picture on the upper left hand corner is viewable in all my home systems (Widows XP, Windows98, and Windows-Mobile).

A Country Christmas

"Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy," -- 1 Peter 1:8, NIV

Tonight, many from our church gathered at dairyman Dave's country estate for a Christmas meal. The food and atmosphere were great. But sweeter was the time of our fellowship and bonding in the rejoicing of Christ's birth.

Leave it to the Beavers

Rather than an allegorial tale, The Chronicles of Narnia is a Christ infused story. In chapter 7 of 'Narnia', the four children are referred by Mr. Beaver as the 'Sons and Daughters of Eve' (cf Psalms 144:3; 8:3-4). Mr. and Mrs. Beaver are the keepers of the prophetic word. Their place is a refuge of hope (i.e. the interpretive Word) filled with warmth and hot food.

Excerpts from Chapter 7, 'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe':
A Day With The Beavers.

----------
"Here we are, Mrs Beaver," said Mr Beaver, "I've found them. Here are the Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve'- and they all went in.

The first thing Lucy noticed as she went in was a burring sound, and the first thing she saw was a kindlooking old she-beaver sitting in the corner with a thread in her mouth working busily at her sewing machine, and it was from it that the sound came. She stopped her work and got up as soon as the children came in.

"So you've come at last!" she said, holding out both her wrinkled old paws. "At last! To think that ever I should live to see this day! The potatoes are on boiling and the kettle's singing and I daresay, Mr Beaver, you'll get us some fish."

"That I will," said Mr Beaver, and he went out of the house (Peter went with him), and across the ice of the deep pool to where he had a little hole in the ice which he kept open every day with his hatchet. They took a pail with them. Mr Beaver sat down quietly at the edge of the hole (he didn't seem to mind it being so chilly), looked hard into it, then suddenly shot in his paw, and before you could say Jack Robinson had whisked out a beautiful trout. Then he did it all over again until they had a fine catch of fish.

Meanwhile the girls were helping Mrs Beaver to fill the kettle and lay the table and cut the bread and put the plates in the oven to heat and draw a huge jug of beer for Mr Beaver from a barrel which stood in one corner of the house, and to put on the frying-pan and get the dripping hot. Lucy thought the Beavers had a very snug little home though it was not at all like Mr Tumnus's cave. There were no books or pictures, and instead of beds there were bunks, like on board ship, built into the wall. And there were hams and strings of onions hanging from the roof, and against the walls were gum boots and oilskins and hatchets and pairs of shears and spades and trowels and things for carrying mortar in and fishing-rods and fishing-nets and sacks. And the cloth on the table, though very clean, was very rough.

Just as the frying-pan was nicely hissing Peter and Mr Beaver came in with the fish which Mr Beaver had already opened with his knife and cleaned out in the open air. You can think how good the new-caught fish smelled while they were frying and how the hungry children longed for them to be done and how very much hungrier still they had become before Mr Beaver said, "Now we're nearly ready." Susan drained the potatoes and then put them all back in the empty pot to dry on the side of the range while Lucy was helping Mrs Beaver to dish up the trout, so that in a very few minutes everyone was drawing up their stools (it was all three-legged stools in the Beavers' house except for Mrs Beaver's own special rockingchair beside the fire) and preparing to enjoy themselves. There was a jug of creamy milk for the children (Mr Beaver stuck to beer) and a great big lump of deep yellow butter in the middle of the table from which everyone took as much as he wanted to go with his potatoes, and all the children thought - and I agree with them - that there's nothing to beat good freshwater fish if you eat it when it has been alive half an hour ago and has come out of the pan half a minute ago. And when they had finished the fish Mrs Beaver brought unexpectedly out of the oven a great and gloriously sticky marmalade roll, steaming hot, and at the same time moved the kettle on to the fire, so that when they had finished the marmalade roll the tea was made and ready to be poured out. And when each person had got his (or her) cup of tea, each person shoved back his (or her) stool so as to be able to lean against the wall and gave a long sigh of contentment.

"And now," said Mr Beaver, pushing away his empty beer mug and pulling his cup of tea towards him, "if you'll just wait till I've got my pipe lit up and going nicely - why, now we can get to business. It's snowing again," he added, cocking his eye at the window. "That's all the better, because it means we shan't have any visitors; and if anyone should have been trying to follow you, why he won't find any tracks."
----------

Third Sunday of Advent - Love

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace -- Isaiah 9:6, KJV

And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together: for the mouth of the LORD hath spoken it. -- Isaiah 40:5, KJV

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee -- Zachariah 9:9, KJV

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.-- Luke 2:10-11, KJV

What Sweeter Music

What Sweeter Music (Selection Expired)

Words: Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
'A Christmas Carol, Sung to the King
in the Presence at White-Hall'

Music: John Rutter

What sweeter music can we bring
Than a carol, for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?
Awake the voice! Awake the string!

Dark and dull night, fly hence away,
And give the honour to this day
That sees December turned to May.

Why does the chilling winter's morn
Smile, like a field beset with corn?
Or smell like a meadow newly shorn
Thus on the sudden? Come and see
The cause, why things thus fragrant be:

'Tis He is born. whose quickening birth
Gives life and lustre, public mirth,
To heaven and the under-earth.

We see Him come, and know Him ours,
Who, with His sunshine and His showers,
Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

The darling of the world is come,
And fit it is, we find a room
To welcome Him, to welcome Him.

The nobler part of all the house here, is the heart.
Which we will give Him: and bequeath
This holly, and this ivy wreath.
To do Him honour. who's our King,
And Lord of all this revelling

What sweeter music can we bring
Than a carol, for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?

Joshua Bell

Joshua Bell
Today is JB's birthday.

Selection Expired: Joshua Bell (violin) - Casta Diva (from Bellini's opera "Norma")

John Rutter, Kapellmeister

The two foremost English kapellmeisters are Dale Warland and John Rutter. Warland has retired his Dale Warland Singers and returned to the campus of University of Minnesota in mid-2004. That leaves us John Rutter and his Cambridge Singers.

Although Rutter himself has said he is not particularly religious, he has composed many beautiful Christian choral pieces. One could say God has a plan for this man and his artistry. *

In the course of this Christmas season, I will post a few Christmas choral selections from Rutter's Christmas album. One of my favorites from this album is Rutter's setting to Robert Herrick's Christmas poem 'What Sweeter Music.' Stay tuned if you will.

* For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. -- Ephesians 2:9-11 (NASB)

Panis Angelicus

Renata Scotto, Soprano
Panis Angelicus
César Franck (1822-1890)
(Latin Text)

Panis angelicus
Fit panis hominum;
Dat panis coelicus
Figuris terminum
O res mirabilis!
Manducat Dominum
Pauper, pauper,
Servus et humilis.
Pauper, pauper,
Servus et humilis.

Selection Expired: Renata Scotto - Panis Angelicus

(English Translation)
Heavenly bread
That becomes the bread of all mankind;
Bread from the angelic host
That is the end of all imaginings.
Oh, miraculous thing!
This body of God will nourish
Even the poorest,
The most humble of servants.
Even the poorest,
The most humble of servants.

Second Sunday of Advent - Peace

But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.
-- Micah 5:2, KJV

Aslan is on the move.
Yea, in the way of thy judgments, O LORD, have we waited for thee; the desire of our soul is to thy name, and to the remembrance of thee.
-- Isaiah 26:8, KJV;

And

"The Spell Begins to Break"
The reason for that reassurance is that the sledge is Father Christmas' who, with the Witch's spell losing power, is finally able to enter Narnia. He comes bearing gifts for the fugitives: a sword and shield for Peter, a bow and quiver and a hunting horn for Susan, a dagger and a vial of magic cordial that can immediately heal any injury for Lucy.
-- C.S. Lewis "Chapter 10. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe"

Every Valley

Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain
-- Isaiah 40:4 (KJV)

Expired: Too Hot To Handel - Every Valley (adapted from 'The Messiah')

O Magnum Mysterium

The area concert choir and chamber singers presented a combined choral program at our church tonight. Included with the traditional Christmas carols and advent chorales, was O Magnum Mysterium. Setting by Morton Lauridsen (Chair of the Dept. of Composition at USC).

No, No, Narnia

C.S. Lewis did not like the idea of turning his "Narnia" stories into movies. See his protest letter below to BBC producer Lance Sieveking.

Disney will release a film version of "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" on 9 December, 2005.

We shall see.



The Kilns,
Headington Quarry,
Oxford
18 Dec. 1959

Dear Sieveking

(Why do you ‘Dr’ me? Had we not dropped the honorifics?) As things worked out, I wasn’t free to hear a single instalment of our serial [The Magician’s Nephew] except the first. What I did hear, I approved. I shd. be glad for the series to be given abroad. But I am absolutely opposed – adamant isn’t in it! – to a TV version. Anthropomorphic animals, when taken out of narrative into actual visibility, always turn into buffoonery or nightmare. At least, with photography. Cartoons (if only Disney did not combine so much vulgarity with his genius!) wld. be another matter. A human, pantomime, Aslan wld. be to me blasphemy.

All the best,
yours
C. S. Lewis

[Letter to BBC producer Lance Sieveking (1896-1972), who has written at the top: ‘The Magician’s Nephew’ and, after the address, the phone number “62963”.]

Source: nthposition.com

Say What?

"The long-term value of today's IT specialists will come from understanding and navigating the situations, processes and buying patterns that characterize vertical industries and cross-industry processes," Diane Morello, VP, Gartner Research, 29 November,2005

Junk English is alive and well, as evinced by Ms. Morello.

She could have delivered the gobbledygook in everyday English: "Today's businesses will increasing look to hiring IT (Information Technology) professionals with added skills. They not only specialize in IT, but also understand the business. More important, they must be able to handle assignments outside of their area."

Deep Purple

Play this MP3:
Bea Wain (1939)
- Deep Purple (De Rose & Parish)

Music: Peter De Rose (1934)
Lyrics: Mitchell Parish (1939)

Top of the Chart: Larry Clinton & His Orchestra (1939)
with Bea Wain

When the deep purple fall
Over sleepy garden wall
And the stars begin to flicker in the sky
Through the mist of a memory
You wander back to me
Breathing my name with a sigh

In the still of the night
Once again I hold you tight
Though you're gone
Your love lives on when moonlight beams
And as long as my heart will beat
Lover we'll always meet
Here in my deep purple dreams

(Instrumental interlude)

In the still of the night
Once again I hold you tight
Though you're gone
Your love lives on when moonlight beams
And as long as my heart will beat
Lover we'll always meet
Here in my deep purple dreams

First Sunday of Advent - Hope

"Do not, I beseech you, be troubled about the increase of forces ALREADY in DISSOLUTION. You have mistaken the hour of the night. It is already morning."
--G.K. Chesterton 'Orthodoxy'

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.
-- Isaiah 9:2, KJV

Acknowledger of All Things Worthwhile

Among other usual junk mail I receive daily, two authors had recently sent invitations to my Amazon.com book reviewer's account. One appeared to be a published author. He invited me (and others I presumed) to visit his blog. The invitation read like a spam. I have filed it in the "Second Look" folder.

The second author, or want-to-be author, wrote a long resume of sorts as an introduction. He wished me to read and comment on the first ten chapters of his unpublished book.

This up-and-coming author began in his invite as follows:

'While browsing Amazon reviews I came across yours for Percy’s “The Moviegoer” and decided that I’d send this message to ask if you, as an avid reader and acknowledger of all things worthwhile, would consider reading a bit of my novel, FUTUREPROOF...'

I can see it now. I, the Book Reviewer and Acknowledger of All Things Worthwhile, walking down the Halls of the Unpublished Purgatory, and let each of these languishing souls bow and kiss my ring.

I'd expected a vote from this "Futureproof" author on my review of "The Moviegoer." Not even as a token prelude to his request, he didn't vote.

Would I excuse his insolence and condescend to read his draft, you ask?
Well, my friends, The Acknowledger of All Things Worthwhile says: Que Sera Sera.

If you are inclined to read and comment of this unpublished work, go to Futureproof.

There will be no audience with His Worthwhileness today. He will leave presently to see the new "Pride & Prejudice" movie at a theater near him. No puns please. LOL.

Thankful

This post was sent from the mobile iPAQ hx2755.

I am thankful the fullness of time has not come. God is still being patient with me - and with the world.

Thanksgiving 2005

THANKSGIVING
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1901)

We walk on starry fields of white
And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
To crown our lives with splendor,
And quite ignore our daily store
Of pleasures sweet and tender.

Our cares are bold and push their way
Upon our thought and feeling.
They hang about us all the day,
Our time from pleasure stealing.
So unobtrusive many a joy
We pass by and forget it,
But worry strives to own our lives,
And conquers if we let it.

There's not a day in all the year
But holds some hidden pleasure,
And looking back, joys oft appear
To brim the past's wide measure.
But blessings are like friends, I hold,
Who love and labor near us.

We ought to raise our notes of praise
While living hearts can hear us.

Full many a blessing wears the guise
Of worry or of trouble;
Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,
Who knows the mask is double.
But he who has the faith and strength
To thank his God for sorrow
Has found a joy without alloy
To gladden every morrow.

We ought to make the moments notes
Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
The hours and days a silent phrase
Of music we are living.
And so the theme should swell and grow
As weeks and months pass o'er us,
And rise sublime at this good time,
A grand Thanksgiving chorus.

Expired: Click to Listen - George Winston's "Thanksgiving"

Hoagy

Hoagy Carmichael (November 22, 1899 – December 27, 1981)

A Hoagy sandwich is nice anytime of the day. A delicious thought no less.
That will have to wait for another time.

Today is Hoagy Carmichael's birthday .

Expired: Click to Listen - Hoagy Carmichael's "Stardust"

Stardust
Music: Hoagy Carmichael (1923)
Words: Mitchell Parris
Vocal: Denny Dennis (World War II reocording)

And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we’re apart

You wandered down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now the stardust of yesterday
The story of the years gone by

Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely nights dreaming of a song
That melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you

When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
Now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song

Beside the garden wall
When stars are bright
You were in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
Of paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain
In my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain

Elvira Madigan

It's not nice to fool mother nature. Just don't do it again.

Click sur le lien pour entendre:

Fin: le concerto 21 de Mozart, l'andante "Elvira Madigan"

Now Thank We All Our God

This post was sent from the mobile iPAQ hx2755.

Benediction: "Therefore , since we receive a kingdom which cannot be shaken , let us show gratitude , by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe." (Hebrews 12:28, KJV)

Being one of the greeters for this Sunday's 11 AM service, I got to listen to the Hallelujah Brass played Saint-Saint's Third Symphony "Maestoso" in the Prelude to worship - again. (I heard it at the 8:30 AM service.)

Fools Rush in Where Angels Fear to Tread - Redux

I wrote this post almost a year ago. I was hoping someone could rise up to the task of solving these three riddles, matrimony minded or not. No takers.

At last, someone I know is very close in coming up with the answers. Here is the original post from 23 December, 2004:

'Love's function is to fabricate unknownness. That known is being wishless, but love, is all of wishing.' She wishes. He wishes.

To seperate the wheat from the chaff, the female in wish of a "good" husband could start by asking the suitors three riddles as follows:

1. What phantom dies each dawn but each night is reborn in the heart?

2. What blazes up when you think of great deeds, is hot in love, and grows cold when you die?

3. What is the ice that sets you on fire?

If there are males wanting to take on riddles such as these, then at the very least, they possess a much wished but often lacking mental faculty in a man-woman relationship. Imagination.

To love and to sustain love, it requires imagination.

The Last Picture Show, Fall, 2005

Grace M Davis High School

This is the last fall color photo for the year.

The Graffiti Bowl

Mrs. Heacock's husband had won four tickets for tomorrow's community college football championship game. They Graffiti Bowl. They couldn't go. I became the beneficiary and holders of these tickets.

I gave them to Patty (my neighbor Natalie's sister) and her 9-year old nephew, Sebastian. They should have oodles of fun tomorrow watching the playoff.

A Failure to Communicate

In Paul Newman's classic role as 'Cool Hand Luke (1967)', the chain gang captain said to him in front of other prisoners, "What we've got here is... failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach. So you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it... well, he gets it. I don't like it any more than you men."

Without getting into what my livelihood is, I was a failure to communicate, of sorts. I recall one of my earliest instructors in my field said to me after a test, "You are the only one in the class the test failed to profile. You acted the same if you were happy, sad, or whatever." I thought that was an odd commentary then.

Over the years, I have learned when doing reading, writing and even listening to words or music, my mind goes into a data-processing mode. In most instances, it is voiding emotions and mental images. In other words, my brain is suppressing these sensations unless it is told otherwise.

Take the words Three Oranges. I know what these words meant and what they represented. I just don't "naturally, normally" see the images of oranges when I read or write them on paper, or via the computer screen. As for listening to music, say, Ravel's Piece En Forme D'habanera, I hear the quiet or pensive notes, sans images. Emotions with conjured images are filtered, for the expediency of getting me from Point A to Point B.

Recently, I wrote some very scintillating proses packed with vivid images on another blog. But I did not tell myself (the mind) to convert what I wrote into images or probable emotions. Only after receiving some emotionally charged proses written in response, then I had to re-read what I wrote. This time in technicolor.

Here is a way to explain how my mind works. Let me use this Shakespearean verse, as an illustration:

The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl

- Richard III, Act IV, Sc. 4

A beautiful verse indeed. Full of meanings. There were no mental images per se associated with this verse when I typed it. From within my mind, these words were supposed to be understood, and need not be visualized. As a matter of fact, that's what I'd expected when others read my blog - until now. Others don't see or hear things as I do.

Anyway, someone could very well write a comment to this post like:

"L'Envoi, you give off all the brilliance of a room full of pictures of the stars and the moon, and as much as warmth and heat."

Now, that's cold.

The Love for Three Oranges

Three oranges.

Okay. You have read these two words.

If you would, could you leave a comment and tell me if at the moment you read these words "three oranges", you immediately "saw" oranges in your mind. And, if some of you had to pause and convert these two words into a mental picture. Lastly, if Prokofiev came to mind, plesse leave a note also.

This little experment has to do with me, more than you, how I process sensory perceptions in my brain. I'll write a post on this presently.

Thanks.

Never Again

I have made my exit from playing a poet with an altered persona. It was a fascinating experience on one hand, and unsettling on the other. There were people who actually thought I was for real, or they forgot I was role playing.

First Chili Cook-Off at Church

As a conclusion of our 40 Days of Community milestone, we had our first fall chili cook-off. Seventeen small groups participated and as many varieties of chili styles.

I did my part rating the contestants with sticky-stars. Boy, was I stuffed.

One Will, Many Lessons

This Sunday marks the conclusion of our 40 Days of Community.

Hands toiling in service; hands clapsing in fellowship; hands joining in praying; hands raising in worship; and hands reaching out to the less fortunate. All new and not so new lessons for the pilgrims' progress.

Altogether one will. Altogether one priase. His will be done.

Playing Cyrano

For the last few evenings, I have had fun playing a mysterious poet of dark repute on a poetry blog. It's driving the hostess batty not knowing whence came this umbrageous bard. And yet, she is awaiting my return.

The Phantom of the What?

If you don't know what Bluegrass music is, give it a listen:

Expired: Woody Midigrass Band (Bluegrass Music) - Phantom of the Opry

Veterans' Day, 2005

11 November, 2005


Our flag is stained with the blood of the brave.
I, on this privileged perch of the present,
shout with a grateful heart:

"You have made our tomorrows free.
Our land is and will always be."

Semper Fidelis!

Today, 10 November, 2005, is the US Marine Corp's 230th birthday.

Back to the Old Blog Template

I decided the new blog template was too high maintenance. I already have several websites online. I really don't need to mess with another one . For the record, I've been there and done that. Now I am back to using the old blog template.

Carol, if you are reading this, I don't need another pretty face to divert my attention.

My New Blog Template

After reading Carol's post this evening on her wanting to a new blog template, my interest is aroused. So I hacked my own template.

This template looks way too busy with the distracting Yosemite NP background. It is too early to tell if I want to keep it, or revert back to the old one.

Don't Call Me Kim Mesabi

The name is Wasabi. Tim Wasabi.

My grocer has restocked Tim's Cascade Style Wasabi Potato Chips. For a long while, he said these potato chips were just a temporary snack. Now they are back! I hope they will stay for good this time.

Seldom Scene

The 'Seldom Scene' is one of my favorite bluegrass music artists. When I learned of their music, they have faded from the scene, as it were.

This post is on another seldom scene. Following this morning's worship service, I mentioned to our senior pastor about his reading of Revelation 5:12-13 from a modern English bible. The version he used has a questionable translation of these verses. (I forgot which version he used. It could have been the NIV. It's his customary practice to use several versions of translations to impart the message of the day.)

The question centered around the word "saying". The original Greek word for "saying" was lego. It was used in verses 12 and 13. It would be a stretch to translate this Greek word as "singing". At least, this was my opinion when I broached the subject to Pastor Steve.

The New American Standard Bible (NASB) is known for its closest literal translation of the original New Testament Greek. It rendered Rev. 5:12-13 correctly as follows (bold emphasis mine):

12 saying with a loud voice, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing."

13 And every created thing which is in heaven and on the earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all things in them, I heard saying, "To Him who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb, be blessing and honor and glory and dominion forever and ever."

Whereas, in the New International Version (NIV), the same word, "saying", was translated incorrectly as "sang" and "singing", respectively, in verses 12 and 13. Its translation reads:

12 In a loud voice they sang: "Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!"

13 Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, singing: "To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!"

We see the real Greek word "singing" in Rev. 5:9. The Greek word for singing in this verse was ado. It's derived from aeido. Both of these Greek words denoted sing, sang, or singing. The NASB and NIV had translated this verse correctly, however.

In secular music or even in hymnodies, ascribing angels the ability to sing is acceptable for a number of reasons. But scripturally to state that angels can sing creates two problems. First, it brings into question when is singing, singing, or saying, saying, in the Bible. Moreover, by distorting the original meaning of the word "singing", we are diluting if not refuting the significance in one of God's unique and solely gifts to His highest creation. Man.

Pastor Steve concurred with my concern. He said he will redeem himself in the second service.

In My Dreams

Thomas Kinkade - Autumn-3

The cavalcade of deciduous woods lined our lanes has morphed into its fall costumes for the season's finale. Plush leaves in arrays of crimson, amber, scarlet, and yellow, are flaunting their dazzling and ephemeral splendor in the autumn wind.

I like to capture some of that Thomas Kinkade fall color moments at home. If he could, why not I? Every fall past, the neighbor's poplar chortled and shook its denuded wispy branches at me, "In your dreams, dude! It ain't going to happen."

So it is to be. No Kinkade autumn scene in the front yard this year. Another season of my resigning to Verlain's de l'automne blessent mon coeur d'une langueur monotone.

Untitled (for C.Y.)

I was so glad we met again.

We all have regrets and hurts. Perhaps no balm can assuage your deepest hurts and foibles. Still, treasure the vibrant life with which you've been blessed. Beyond, live life more than withered petals locked within your heart.

Though crushed, the lavender florets emit a healing and soothing aroma. Will you? I know you will and can.

The past is ashes. Let not the coming days inviolate the waking eye.

Be well, my friend.

Dissecting and Translating - 'If You Could See'

A few months ago I wrote the last of a four-part article The Psalms: Part 4 of 4 - The Business of Heaven. This final post concludes my view that hymnodies are guideposts pointing to our services in heaven on the other side of eternity.

I have stated in the three earlier installments, today's so-called hymns are devoided of the Christian theology of forgiveness and salvation. Specifically, hymns of our fathers concerning the holiness, the lovingkindness, the propitiation of Christ on the cross, and faithfulness of God to man, have given way to the "touchy-feely" emotions of the self, advocated by the song - not hymn - writers. The reference to the God-Christ is secondary or vague in these songs.

In the 'If You Could See' Christian song, the focus is placed on the self. The self could be anybody of any faith. A Buddhist, a Muslim, or a Hindu. These believers can relate to this song in reference to their deity or deities. If this indistinct reference to Christ can be generically transposed for other gods, then what we believe is in vain.

Two things I attempted in this translation. One, to take an existentialist text and turn it back to Christ, hopefully, with less ambiguity. Two, to make the translated verses rhyme.

In verses one and two of 'If You Could See', the suggestion of "look up at the blue sky" and "listen to the crashing waves" could or should lead one to thank God for His mercy is tenuous at best. Never mind the metaphysical interpretations other world religions can place on these two verses, an atheist can, too. The atheist could say, "Cool. These verses are very much like 'Stop and smell the roses. Appreciate life's pleasures along the way'." So then, there is no fundamental difference in thought among 'smelling the roses', 'seeing the sky' and 'hearing the sea'. Signs of existentialism are evinced in this song.

What I did, albeit poorly, was to place the focus back on God as the creator and enabler in the first two verses of this song. In verse one, He is the "true light". In verse two, "we soar" on His bespangled waves like we'd soar as eagles in Isaiah 43:1. This prilgrim's progress is assured and sustained because of the "true light". These two verses are now less of a vanilla flavor that can be appropriated for other gods. People of other faiths will have to articulate what their "true light" is.

Verses three and four are variations of the first two verses. In these latter two verses, the song writer asks us to "really really look to the sky closely more than once" and to "really really listen closely to the waves" to find God. This is full blown existentialism.

To bring verses three and four back to the Godhead as the Savior, I had to depart from 'watching more skies' and 'listening to more waves.' Thus in the translation of verse three, because of our pride, we could not see God's creation in nature (the largest expanses visible to our naked eyes are the skies and the oceans) and us, created in His own image (exemplified by we 'not seeing our own hands' in the original text), until we look to Christ and the eternal glory which awaits us.

Lastly, in verse four, the 'waves' are as 'emerald seam'overlapping line one gleaming line. Christ is the waves which stir us to hear. The man from Galilee is still calling and reminding us, He is the 'living water' or 'stream'.

The outcome of this lesson affects not one iota of the text to 'If You Could See.' I pursuited this exercise for my edification. Not much more will be said of this song.

Three Questions

The following is a record of my comments posted today in response to some thoughts advanced by a Fuller Theolgical Seminary student.

Three questions or requests for clarification, if you do not mind answering:

1) What is your own confession of faith?

2) Since you seem to be gender conscious, would you have Jesus changed his prayers as in the the Lord's Prayer, for example, 'Our Father...' to 'Our Mother' or whatever?

3) Could you expand on why you think some if not all of Calvin's statements were 'weird'?

Thank You, Grace

Many of our congregation and I are blessed that we have such a fine and dedicated organist. Each Sunday at the conclusion of the two morning services, some of us would stay and listen to Grace finish playing the postlude.

On this Sunday's postlude, she exalted God and enriched us with Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor.

Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublié

Je n'ai pas les mots pour exprimer mes pensées...

Que veux-tu me dire?

Alors, donne-moi la chanson que tu me chantais.

Ah...Les feuilles mortes, peut être?

Oui. Merci a toi pour la chanson.

Click sur le lien pour entendre la chanson (français et anglais):

Fin: Dorothée Berryman - Les feuilles mortes (The Autumn Leaves)

If You Could See - Completed Translation

The original text of this song does not lend itself to a literal translation, much less the evincing of the Christian message. Therefore, the translation is centered about the gist of each of the four verses. Moreover, I have taken the nebulous Christian message of this song, which I perceived was the case, and rendered it palpably Christocentric.


If You Could See [若你能看見]
(tr. L'Envoi)


1. If there be azure sky in the light, withal we'd see the argosy of clouds in the nautical sea.

Lest the eyes blind to true sight, thank you, Lord, for thy mercy we see!


2. If there be water lapping on the sand, withal we'd hear the rushing of the curling roar.

Lest the drowsy ears falter to understand, thank you, Lord, on thy bespangled waves we soar!


3. Conscious vanity of our ply, blind to celestial splendors shine and shine.

Till we pant for the transcendent sky, of Christ, His glory yours and mine!


4. Conscious obsequious to our pleasure falls, deaf to emerald seam and gleam.

Till we hear the Voice of Galilee calls, come, drink, I am life giving stream!

Floyd Cramer

Fall Colors
If you are a country or southern gospel aficionado, you'd have heard of Floyd Cramer and his best-known 'slip-note'* piano style. Even if his name is unfamiliar, here is an opportunity to find out something about this artist. Listen to him playing the best loved hymn, 'How Great Thou Art', you could probably figure out what a slip-note sounds like. Today is Floyd's birthday.

Expired: Listen to Floyd Cramer's 'How Great Thou Art'
*The 'slip-note' style playing is hitting a note and immediately slipping onto the next.

Thumbs Down on This One

This post was sent from the mobile iPAQ hx2755.

Are you reading this post, Blogger.com?

To require the blog owners to do word verifications for posting and editing is a bad idea. It took the fun out of blogging for me.

Vive le Bizet!

Expired: Listen to Barney Kessel (jazz guitarist): Viva el Toro! (After Bizet's Carmen 'Vivat! Vivat le torero')

It's Double Tuesday

Today is double Tuesday. It's Johann Strass II, and Georges Bizet's Birthday.

I am going to replace - now online - the Glazunov's Violin Concerto in A Minor, First Movement. Later this evening I will upload something by or attributed to one of the two birthday boys. Have a listen to Glazunov if you wish, before I rid of it.

One Year

My one year of blogging is today.

Painting the Vine House Interior

Painting the Vine House Interior on 23 October, 2005

While another group from our church is putting together a new storage shed in the back yard today, our group contiuned with the the second phase of cleaning and painting tasks. We sanded and prepped the designated interior woodwork with primers. On the next weekend visit, the group will do the painting.

The Vine House - Part II

For this afternoon's prepping the Vine House for a new paint job, I am taking with me a vacuum cleaner, drop cloths, a scraper, paint brushes. I have tasked myself to do sanding down the doors and cabinets, and cleaning up afterward.

A Day at the Woods

Steve of Sandy Gulch said the fall foliage is in view in his neck of the woods. He'd coaxed me to visit his stumping ground at the western Sierra foothills. I've not been to Calaveras County for a long spell, certainly not at this time of the year.

Since this celebrated Mark Twin and Bret Harte country lies about 60 miles east on Highway 4, it was an inviting thought for a jaunt to Angels Camp area to take in some fall color.

The foliage up them 'dar hills just started to change color; it's not quite ready for prime time. Be that as it may, it was a pleasant excursion no less.

The 64-Dollar Question

Q: If you were to recommend only one fictional work to a non-Christian, and not a series like Lewis' The Chronicle of Narnia, which book would it be?

A: Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov.

Pre-owned

He: If you were to buy a car, which would you like?

She: I'd like to have a SUV. Any pre-owned Japanese make will do just fine.

He: I thought you eschew junk English as I. Guess not. I shouldn't be so critical. The pot calling the pan black.

She: I meant a certified pre-owned Toyota or something.

He: I was referring to the hyphenated word pre-owned.

She: What's wrong with the word?

He: The word is a marketing new-speak. It creates an illusion of exceptional value and class. A used car sounds...so used and abused. Filthy, rusty, bad motor, gums stuck to the seat, and wipers don't work. Now, on the other hand, a pre-owned car is handled with kid glove. It is inspected, cleaned, and polished before the manager would allow it to be sold.

She: That's exactly right. A car buyer should get the best deal and service from the dealer. Owning a used car sounds so icky. Anyway, I like the sound of owning a pre-owned car.

He: My point is, used is used. Why call it something else and muddle the meaning? One of the problems with junk English is it uses multi-syllable pompous words and phrases to supplant the perfectly good and concise words we all know. Moreover, junk English takes more effort to speak and write, and yet it requires further explaining before it's understood.

She: I see what you mean. 'Pre-owned' is an unnecessarily cumbersome and fuzzy two-syllable word which the one syllable word 'used' will suffice in writing and speaking. Give me a few more examples.

He:An 'Educator'. A four-syllable word aims to convey more prestige than just being a 'teacher'. 'I am in between jobs' takes the edge off of being 'unemployed'. And a 'negative growth' assumes a serious professorial air as opposed to saying a 'loss' in profit.

Why are you sucking on your teeth?

She: I get the idea. Oh, I was eating some trail-mix earlier and a sliver of cashew or something got wedged in between the molars.

He: Let me see. I have a pre-owned toothpick somewhere in the drawer. Give me a sec. I'll find it for you.

She: Get real!

Artemis

The pale morning light frames the descending huntress on the rosy canvas. A rare glimpse of Apollo's twin at the hush of dawn. A translucent splendor. The pearl of the cerulean firmament elicits one's appreciative sigh and admiration from afar.

Will Artemis grace my awakening on the morrow?

If You Could See

I received a Christian song from a distant shore. The music was pleasant. I've translated two of the four stanzas of this Christian song. I hope no violence is perpetrated to alter the intent of the original composition.

If You Could See [若你能看見]
(tr. L'Envoi)

1. If there be azure sky in the light, withal we'd see the argosy of clouds in the nautical sea.

Lest the eyes blind to true sight, thank you, Lord, for thy mercy we see!


2. If there be water lapping on the sand, withal we'd hear the rushing of the curling roar.

Lest the drowsy ears falter to understand, thank you, Lord, on thy bespangled waves we soar!

The Vine House

The Vine House, circa 1920-1930 construction

Dr. Bob, our group leader, prayed with us and we started to clean the interior of the Vine House at 1300 hours. While others worked on the kitchen, the cabinets, and other things in the facility, I helped in cleaning the bathroom and mopping the kitchen floor and hallway.

We being the first group to start the clean-up and repair tasks, Pastor Dave came by and consulted with Dr. Bob as to what other groups can do specifically in their rotations.

We wrapped up the day at 1600 hours. Next week, our group will begin the first phase of prepping the rooms for painting. Other groups will be doing the repairing and replacing the plumbing and electrical fixtures in their rotations.

It's a Sunny Morning

We had our first autumn rain last night. There might be some more rains today. At this moment, the sun's out and the air is fresh and invigorating. With this nice weather, it should be a productive day at the Vine House.

I took some cloud pictures and uploaded them to wunderground.com

Come Rain or Shine

A storm front is moving south from Alaska this evening. Increasing clouds with a chance of rain toward morning are expected tonight. The late evening early morning temperature is expected to be about 53°F/11°C, with winds up to 15 mph /24 kph.

With the possibility of rain tomorrow, our group will probably be doing more inside the building cleaning at the Vine House.

Une Superbe Chanson de Yves Montand

Yves Montand (13 octobre, 1921 – 9 novembre, 1991)

Bonjour à vous. Aujourd'hui c'est l'anniversaire d'Yves.
Fin: Entendre sa chanson: Sous Le Ciel de Paris (1951)

She's at Cold Mountain

Men ask the way to Cold Mountain
Cold Mountain: there's no through trail.
In summer, ice doesn't melt
The rising sun blurs in swirling fog.
How did I make it?
My heart's not the same as yours.
If your heart was like mine
You'd get it and be right here.
--Han Shan (寒山)
9th Century Tang Dynasty Chinese Poet/Hermit
(tr. Gary Snyder)


The first and last time I saw her was at the a San Francisco Symphony Concert with Michael Tilson Thomas conducting a Hector Berliloz's program. That night, she sang in the Lélio ou le Retour à la vie chorus. Now remarried, she and her children of the first marriage are settled in North Carolina.

She was originally from northern California. How she ended up in the Blue Ridge Mountains was partially my doing. When Charles Frazier's book Cold Mountain first published 1997, I recommended it to her through a classical music forum. She read it and was smitten with Frazier's eloquent evocations of the North Carolina landscape. She packed up her children and moved there. She's found her Cold Mountain.

Frazier quoted the first two lines of the preceding Han-Shan poem in the epigraph of his book. The main character of the story, Inman, died at the gates of his beloved Cold Mountain. I will leave the transcendental and metaphorical discussions of Han-Shan's poem and Frazier's work to others.

The cable channels are showing Cold Mountain this week. This film, however, barely does justice to the book which it took Frazier six years to write.

Fantasia on Greensleeves

12 October is Ralph Vaughan Williams birthday. As surely as the sky is blue, many will mispronounce this English composer's first name.

Fantasia on Greensleeves

Clergy Appreciation Month

Today is Columbus Day. If one were political correct and left leaning, than he would not be pleased. As a matter of fact, there aren't many national holidays or remembrance days the left would like. But given the chance of taking a national holiday day's off from work, they will oblige at a heartbeat. Principles will be temporarily tabled or redefined for the duration of the observance.

This month is also Clergy Appreciation Month. This morning I went to Marie Callanders and bought 10 gift certificates. All of the ministerial staff at church are predestined to receive a certificate for a sumptuous pie at MC.

At the nearby Ace Hardware Store close to Marie Callanders, I bought some cleaning supplies needed for the Vine House clean-up next Saturday.

Under the Paris Sky

Fin: La musique du Trio de Galaxie: Sous Le Ciel de Paris

On The Wrong Side of the Track

There are at least two empirical observations concerning the growth pattern of a city where land is either available or annexation merited. The emerging affluent residential and commercial developments are likely to occur first in a northerly direction away from the old downtown and city seat. The presence of railroads or highway further demarcates the have and the have nots of the inhabitants. The concentration of wealth and amenities services are more abundant and accessible on the "right" side of the track and fartherest away from the city hall and inner city surroundings.

A double whammies beset and dissect the westside of our city. This section of town is separated by the north-south State Route 99 and the Southern Pacific Railroad. Here is where our version of the West Side Story unfolds daily. It is here on the "wrong" side of the track Medical Ambassadors is serving the poor, the sick, and the destitute with Jesus' eyes.

The Vine House is Medical Ambassadors' drop-in center. At this house, food and drink are provided along with Christian-based videos, a clothing exchange, and a warm place to rest. Our church small groups will be doing repair and remodeling for this center for the next 40 Days of Community and beyond.

Our group will start cleaning and repairing parts of the Vine House next Saturday afternoon, and on the two following Sundays after worship.

Camille Saint-Saëns

Dans la celébration de Camille Saint-Saëns 170e anniversaire sur 9 octobre:

8 octobre MP3: Yelena Obraztsova, messo-soprano: Mon cœur s'ouvre à ta voix (My Heart Hears Thy Voice). L'aria de Dalila de Samson et Dalila, l'Acte 1.

9 octobre MP3: Joshua Bell, violon: Le Cygne (The Swan) du Le Carnaval des Animaux.

Merci de votre visite!

A Third of the World

A few years ago my then dewy-eyed and dimple-faced cousin from Canada stopped by on her way to Xinjian, China. She was on her first overseas missionary assigment. Miss Muffett was not so little anymore. A college graduate proficient in both French and English.

In her short stay, we conversed on things of cultures and customs, from the Chinese to the Québécois. At our last meal together, she broached the subject of "third world this, and third world that." I asked what she meant by third world. Without pretense nor guile, she said: "A third of the world."

The phrase, "third world", is still very dear to the socialist-technocrats and Poli-Sci majors. It is at the ready in the arsenal of anti-American rhetorics. Unlike the Patrick Moynihans and Alfred Sauvys of another world and time, many of these pseudo-intellects are clueless what "third world" means and yet they parrot as though they do. Furthermore, they expect the average Joe Six-Pack knows it as well. If anyone dared to question its usage, he would be frowned upon with condescension as a red state hick.

I leaned over my coffee on the dining table and looked at the rosy-cheeked Miss Muffett and began, "It has nothing to do with the abstract or imaginary partition of the earth into thirds..."

Miss Muffett is no longer the innocent abroad. She is on her second missionary stint in Xinjian. I'd like her to enlighten me about that part of the world upon her return. But I'll pass on the Yak milk and salted butter tea.

Unmarked Borders

When I read this comic strip today, and apropos of the moment, it came to me these words by Sharon Kay Penman. In this passage from The Sunne in Spendour, she penned of the yet to be king young Edward (Edward IV) and his siblings during a critical moment in the War of the Roses:

"they were citizens now of two countries, passing back and forth across the unmarked borders between manhood and boyhood with such frequency that she (their mother) never knew with certainty where they'd be found at any given time." - 'The Sunne in Spendour'

Running Together

This post was sent from the mobile iPAQ hx2755.

Today, 2 October, 2005, is world wide communion Sunday. It brought me joy in tbe spirit and warmth in the heart; I, our church, you, and your church, all partook in the Lord's Supper.

It is He who draws us to run the race together (cf Song 1:4). Wherever we are, may we keep our eyes on Him and run the race together as the messengers of grace. Pray that His Word wlll simply take off and race through your land and mine to a groundswell of response (cf 2 Thess. 3:1).

From this member of the body, God's peace be with you.

EXPIRED: Ralph Vaughan Williams: For All the Saints.

Another Month

The end of September. Is plying her with tears in place of pearls no longer applicable? Only Walter Houston would know.

Master and Command

I am not referring to Patrick O'Brian's naval saga on my subject line. It's on something else.

Recently, an internet acquaintance invited the world to visit her 12-year-old son's audio-visual media clip. I visited the young person's work. It was really a createive and original piece of work. I made a mistake of calling her son 'Master Johnson'. This episode spawned the 20-questions (okay, maybe three).

When I called her son "Master...", it was a subtle double entendre. Perhaps she didn't understand and thought I had been unscrupulous in digging into her privacy.

The word master has several definitions. One of which is referring to a male child who is not yet an adult. It's a formal if not an archaic English word. I called young Johnson as such because I have high regards for his person as an artist. In any case, Mrs. Johnson thought I'd somehow found out her son's real name. I have no idea what her son's first name is. I didn't care to know at any rate.

The second reason I chose to call young Johnson "Master" was because he has mastered some technological skills very few of his age or even adults could have achieved.

As for my knowing Master Johnson's surname, because of his mother's email address in her correspondence to me on some other particulars.

I have to agree with other scholars that proper English usage is on the demise. Our generation doesn't care or want to understand the beauties of our native tongue anymore. We no longer master and command the language of Shakespeare. That is the sad truth.

Oh, Well

This post was sent from the mobile iPAQ hx2755.

Someone in the neighborhood has recently installed an unsecured Wi-Fi. It's most likely a g-router setup. My PDA is connecting to it as of this writing.

I have my own network and secondary service setup. This "free" connection will serve as my tertiary backup. An embarrassment of riches, as Wi-Fi goes. Oh, well.

Not So Vain Anymore

Among all of the reviews I have done on Amazon.com, most of them have to do with books. There were a few choral CD's thrown in here and there. Now, I am adding Carly Simon's new CD Moonlight Serenade (2005) to my short music CD review list.

This is an exceptionally fine recording of the "standards." The supposed voice of the passionate You-Are-So-Vain Carly was another voice of a distant past. The older and sophisticated Carly now sings with a sensual smokey voice not unlike that of Julie London, Dusty Springfield, or Diana Krall.

The jazzy orchestral arrangements coupled with Simon's phrasing of the songs once again certified the endearing artistry of Parish & Miller, Dubin & Warren, Rodgers & Hart, and etc.

EXPIRED: A sampler of Simon sings Rodgers & Hart - Where or When (1939).

Spiorad na nGael

Hear, Hear. That's the way, Irish.

As for the old days and troubled dreams:

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow
Raze out the written troubles of the brain
-- Macbeth, A5,S3.

Loved Walked In

EXPIRED: George Gershwin's Loved Walked In on his birthday on 26 September.

Romancing the Gadfly

"I try to make my music speak simply and directly that which is in my heart at the time I am composing. If there is love there, or bitterness, or sadness, or religion, these moods become part of my music, and it becomes either beautiful or bitter or sad or religious." --Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943)

At the risk of incurring the wrath and indignation from others, my unlearned thought on the great Russian classical composers is that their music is inherently beautiful yet pensive. If there be bubbling gaiety and insouciance in the compositions, the melodic strains are tethered to some shadowy melancholic emotions.

Today is Dmitri Shostakovich's birthday. He'd written a most contemplative score for the 1955 film, The Gadfly.

Janine Jansen, violin (2003)
Romance (The Gadfly Suite, Op. 97a)
Film Score: The Gadfly (1955)
Dmitri Shostakovich
Click here to view this L'Envoi YouTube.

A Season of Mellow Fruitfulness

A musical thought on the way to the farmers market.

Mozart's Violin Sonata in C Major K 296 would be the piece to listen on this glorious autumnal morning.

At the market I bought for brunch a Jalapeno and Cheddar Cheese wrap. As for the week's fruit supplements, I picked out a selection of pluots, late season freestone peaches, and Thompson seedless grapes. And for the carbs, some cranberry scones and a loaf of zucchini chocolate bread will suffice.

A Breath of Autumn

In this time of the year, the vinegarishness of wine making wafts incessantly from the Delicato Winery. A breath of autumn every state route 99 traveler knows so well.

First Day of Fall

After the tempestuous storm which passed through the valley a few days ago, once again the seasonal clime has returned. Today the high was 87°F/31°C. The forecast temperture for this evening and early morning hours will hover about 57°F/13°C.

Today is the first day of fall. The city tree crew came by the neighbood today and did some preventive maintenance on the deciduous trees. They trimmed much of the overhanging branches looming above the rooftops and utility lines.

Autumn brings a different but equally alluring charm than summer. The urgency is over. The Myrna figs are ripen in the backyard; the garden eludes attention - except for the two chrysanthemum plants I bought last week at SaveMart. They are now gracing the southside of the house.

In recent days, there is a stillness at dawn that is unique to the season - not a rustle of wind nor the cacophony of bird-speak. Early morning mists mask the orchard and fields along Route 99. Autumn fruits hanging on the boughs are ready for the harvesting.

The autumn equinox has ushered in the season of harvest and thanksgiving. It is a time for the scarecrows to begin celebration another successful year in their illustrious career. From one generation to another, they have toiled in the fields under the most inauspicious conditions. Truth to tell, there would be no cornucopias without the aid and dedication of these faithful friends. Yet, they demanded little in return. Most admirable of their kind is nary a disparaging word nor discontent ever uttered.

So then, on this very night when the scarecrows celebrate their annual Autumn Dance, I have decreed Shostakovich's Waltz Number 2 as their signature dance for the occasion.

(This music segues nicely into Dmitri's birthday celebration on 25 September.)

September in the Rain

As I left the agency, the unseasonal humid air carried a whiff of ozone. The lurid clouds laden with autumn's first promised rain had rolled in unceremoniously from the Pacific. The skies turned grey with a tinge of yellow, as the late afternoon sun gasped its last resplendent moments.

Going south on route 99, the sun had relented to the dark shroud. Shards of intense lighting were flashing sinister smiles in the distant horizon. Surely, Zeus' thunderbolt was waiting us mortals. After fifteen minutes on the road, the first roll of thunder brought a splatter of heavy drops. These first warning spits pummeled the windshield. Inside the Chevy S10, the air had become humid and stifling. I switched on the air conditioning, shifted my weight, and drove head-on to Mordor South.

It was approaching chaos when I exited the freeway. Traffic lights were out at or near the on-and-off ramps. I grumbled and sighed at the circumstance briefly. While waiting for fifteen minutes to drive two blocks away from the off ramp, I thanked God and asked Him to uplift those in my circle for their health and safety.

This was the day that was. George Shearing's tune September in the Rain was definetely in order for the remains of the day. EXPIRED.

Full Moon, 18 September, 2005

Full Moon, 18 September, 2005, 2143 Hours, California
98% of the Moon is Illuminated
中秋節

Seven More Days

The élan of summer is fading in the smoldering sunsets. Songs heard from the trees not long ago have winged. The air fragrant still with the last flowerng of September. Hummingbirds seeking the last of the season's eau de vie. Hot coffee before dawn is much savored now in these dark, cool, and misty mornings.

The cusp of autumn. Seven more days to fall. A time to harvest the summer treasures. The monotonus languor of the season begins to beckon the mind and body.

Weep No More

Weep no more. Grief is dark and wears on so wearily. Pressing the thorn of separation inward aggravates the fragile heart.

Fling the woes to the sky. Open your arms and sing to the sun. Let it cauterize the wounds and dispel the gloom of your pallor. Life's warm rays of friendships and promised love still await you.

Getting to Know You

The song is now online, Carol.

Out of the Blue

Mrs. Heacock had a surprise in store for me this morning at the office. I was handed a two-disc bonus version of the film Cabsablanca. She said something to the effect, "This is a late birthday or an early Christmas present." A very nice gesture, indeed, and is very much appreciated.

The American Film Institue (AFI) voted Casablanca number two behind Citizen Kane on the 100 best movies in the last 100 years.

A Word from the Gulag

One of my post-grad required readings in an Inter-Disciplinary course was Aleksandr Isaevich Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago. That was a distant summer ago. As my last post on 9-11, I thought a quote from The Gulag is appropriate:

The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either, but right through every human heart, and through all human hearts. This line shifts. Inside us, it oscillates with the years. Even within hearts overwhelmed by evil, one small bridgehead of good is retained; and even in the best of all hearts, there remains a small corner of evil. It is impossible to expel evil from the world in its entirety, but it is possible to constrict it within each person.

The Biblical world view of this conclusion is:

By sin, man fell from their original righteousness and communion with God (Genesis 3:6-8; Ecclesiastes 7:29; Romans 3:23), and so became dead in sin, (Genesis 2:17; Ephesians 2:1), and wholly defiled in all the parts and faculties of soul and body (Titus 1:15; Genesis 6:5; Jeremiah 17:9; Romans 3:10-18).

He Sees and Knows

"I will be glad and rejoice in Your love, for You saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul -- Psalm 31:7 (NIV)

David had been through a lot of hellish moments and depressions. He never gave up. God tells us this in Psalm 31 and elsewhere in the Bible.

God knows of David's and millions of others' hurts. Including yours. He cares. Pray to Him. Ask for strength and courage. Talk and pray with your pastor and fellowship circles.

You are in my thoughts and prayers.

A Future and Hope

Indiviually and collectively, each of us and our church are mobilized to aid the victims of the Katrina aftermath. Through Medical Amassador, the Prebyterian Diaster Assistance, and Salvation Army, etc., we are helping financially and with human resources. At this moment, we have a team working to coordinate with the locals at New Orleans for victims who have lost everything and would consider relocating to our community.

The Cat's Meow

It seems Mrs. Heacock's disposition has improved vastly since the death of her father about a month ago. She approached me at 0730 hours this morning and suggested we play a practical joke on our office manager. The latter comes in later at 0800 hours.

What do you have in mind?
My new cell phone has a ring tone of a cat meowing. So I thought....

Say no more. Who's the target?
C.C.
Hmmmm. Are you sure?
Yes. I like to see her go searching for a lost kitten in our offices.

We tested the sound of the ring tone, and looked for different places to hide the phone in the course of the day. I was to be the dialer to call the cell number. At 0745 hours, the plan was in place. We were ready for the first cat's meow (pun).

The first call to the cat executed at 0819 hours before Mrs. Heacock and C.C. left for their morning briefing. The cat meowed.

C.C. was not a bit perturbed. It fact she casually remarked about someone's cat or someone's cell phone ringing. Bummer. The plan needed to be modified.

After the two left for their briefing at another building, I solicited a junior staff of the unit whose office was on another floor. The protege agreed to be the caller so I would not be caught while dialing for the cat to meow. The phone now placed in a dry flower vase on a cabinet several feet behind C.C.'s workstation.

The second call came at about 0915 hours. C.C. actually went to look for the cat. We two were smugly congratulating in our silence the plan was going according to plan. Then she abruptly stopped and said something about a cell phone again. I looked out from my office to Mrs. Heacock office. She nodded slightly. We knew C.C. wasn't going to be suckered into looking for the cat again.

I sent a coded message to the protege to have the exercise terminated. On this Friday morning, we three culprits enjoyed an abbreviated respite from an otherwise strained and very difficult week at the HQ.

Take That, SBC-Yahoo!

After resolving my so-called "issue" I metioned in the post "Take Five", Yahoo sent me two different surveys to complete. I spent an hour before writing this log to complete these survyes online.

Albeit the surveys were long and repetitive at places, I must admit the questions were quite thorough and allowed the respondent to explain the choices selected. More than once I made references to my "Take Five" URL. It saved my repeating why the SBC-Yahoo tech support was unsatisfactory.

Suwannee River He Liked

Question: What European composer from the late 19th century admired Stephen Foster?

Today is his birthday.
Every music student has played his Humoresque.

Answer: His name is in L'Envoi Music Selection.

The Winning Number

This past Sunday, Smokey gave out two prizes at a drawing as we wrapped up our summer adult ed session at the church. With the winning number "101", I won a sweet deal.

I received a certificate for See's chocolate candies. The prize entitled me at any See's confectionary, a selection of a pound's worth of chocolate morsels.

Since I do not have a sweet tooth, I transferred my entitlement to Mrs. Heacock first thing this morning at the office. She was all grins when I surprised her with the certificate. A chocolate fancier she is. She would benefit from the polyphenols in the cocoa. These naturally occurring antioxidants in cocoa should help maintain her cardiovascular health.

Picnic - A Tale of Two Tunes

As a fan for old movies, a mention of playwright William Inge's Picnic on this Labor Day Weekend is obligatory. At least this once. Lacking the depth of intellect in anything literary, I just as soon talk about a particular piece of music from this Pulitzer Prize play, now a movie. This 1955 film centered about the lives in a small Kansas town on Labor Day. The music that accentuated the movie Picnic was "Moonglow and the Theme from Picnic." Therein lies the tale of two tunes.

Three writers (Will Hudson, Eddie DeLange, and Irving Mills) wrote "Moognlow" in 1934. It didn't become a hit then. The song soon languished in obscurity inside the dust jackets on store shelves. It met a fate similiar to Herman Hupfeld's "As Time Goes By". For the latter, a new lease on life and fame finally came in 1942 by way of one of the all time great movies ever made, "Casablanca". Similarly, the tune "Moonglow" of yesteryear was given a new life in the motion picture "Picnic".

George Duning took "Moonglow" and interwove it with the love theme he wrote for the movie "Picnic". By doing so, he created a 2-for-1 new original tune, or not too original as some would argue, into a big hit. This lush, and sensual dance movie score has since insinuated into the American musical conscious.

In this soft cha-cha, Duning interwove "Moonglow" as a counterpoint to the theme "Picnic". The score began with a piano jazz quartet lithely setting a sensually teasing prelude and invitation to the dance. The piano lead of "Moonglow" beckoned "Picnic" to join in the fun, as it were.

"Picnic" finally relented and joined the dance with a flowing melodic sway of the string ensemble. The two themes finally entwined and blossomed into one luxuriant and supple orchestral masterpiece. All the while the six-note recursive of the counterpoint: 'that.moon.glow.gave.me.you' anchored the soulful landscape of this married score. The perfect musical metaphor for destined lovers as played by Kim Novak and William Holden.

For this creative and vibrant arrangement, George Duning was taken to court by the composors of "Moonglow". Duning made his counterpoint (pun) rather convincingly in the trial. He won. No hard feelings nor monetary settlements for either side. Then along came Steve Allen.

In the meantime, the "Picnic" theme in and of itself was also a big success over the air wave. Steve Allen of "The Benny Goodman Story" (1955) fame, was a renaissance man of many talents. He liked the "Picnic" tune so much that he wrote the lyrics to it - after the film was released, and not having met George Duning either.

The "Picnic" lyrics encapsulated the Freudian sentiments of the main characters in the film. In 1956, the McGuire Sisters recorded "Picnic" with the Dick Jacobs Orchestra.

If you are remotely curious as to why I am so transported with the Duning arrangement of 'Moonglow' and the Theme from 'Picnic', please give it a listen the next couple of days. On the coming Wednesday and Thursday PDT, please also listen to the McGuire Sisters' recording of "Picnic".

Love's Labour's Lost (Not)

Berowne:

Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain,
Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain:
As, painfully to pore upon a book
To seek the light of truth; while truth the while
Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look:
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile:
So, ere you find where light in darkness lies,
Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.

--"Love's Labour's Lost, Act 1, scene 1, 72-79" ~William Shakespeare

In this early Shakespearean comedy, the Spanish King of Navarre decreed he and his three friends were to swear an oath and devote three years to a life of "academe." (Would the Bible be studied in this sabbatical?) The scholary regimen included contemplation, fasting often, sleeping three hours a night, and speaking to no woman.

One of the three courtiers, Berowne, trippingly on his tongue, pleaded against such a harsh academic trial, he alliterated: "Light seeking light doth light of light beguile."

When one staring too long at the books, Lord Berowne contested, it would be painful; why should anyone give up life's pleasures to pursue pain? Reading is blinding, he pressed the point further. Light (the eyes), by seeking light (in seeking truth), doth light of light beguile (it ruins the vision). Then Berowne prattled on in this deliciously self conscious sophistry. Rather than thinking one is going to find truth in the dark recess of books, he reasoned, one is plunged in despair because blindness will shut the latter from the truth.

When the Princess and her retinue arrived, all pretense or modicum for academia dissipated. Lofty ideals for learning gave way to wooing. After some merriments of mixed-up love letters and masquerades, the ladies chided the men for their abundant gestures of infatuation but deficient in true love and commitment. Before the ladies were to give their hands, all four men must wait a year for their affection and fidelity to be tested. Thereby it hangs the tale of a love's labor's lost (temporarily).

God's labor of love is not inconstant. In the 1189-chapter letter to His children, God meticulously lay out His abiding love for them. Metaphorically, the catholic church is His bride (Song of Soloman 5:9; Ephesians 5:23; Revelation 19:6-8). His love is not a fickle affection amounts to no more than infatuation. It is unmeasurable and everlasting. In the second person of the Trinity, Christ's love expands from the beginning before time (Proverbs 8:22-23.) It spans from the east of the sun to the west of the moon, reaching to the farthest of heavens (Psalm 103:10-12). Moreover, His holy light never dims to hurt or blind, but to heal ( Revelation 21:23). Notwithstanding Berowne's witticism, it is in God's light do we see and feel the light of truth evermore (Psalm 36:9; Isaiah 60:18-20).

Neither is God's love labored in vain. For we are a fragrance of Christ saved from wrath through His lovingkindness (II Corinthians 2:15). On this Labor Day, I read once again how Christ Jesus labored and supplicated for His own (I John 4:10; John 17).

By the grace of God within us, let us labor to prove His love for us is not in vain (I Corithinans 8:6; I Corithians 15:10).

Word Verification Turned On

Please accept my apology, folks.

I didn't want visitors to my blog having to type in word verification to leave comments. Those moronic spammers left me no choice. The filter is now turned on.

This means a honest-to-goodness commentator will have to key in the verification before submitting his comments.

Take Five

I wished it had been the Brubeck-Desmond "Take Five" perennial jazz favorite instead.

What I thought was a simple on-line service activation of a previous free but un-used service of 500 MB Yahoo storage space, it turned into a 2-hour tech service "issue" discussion.

What I called a problem, SBC-Yahoo tech support liked to call in an "issue." A rampant use of junk English like most everyone else do these days. There are no longer "problems" out there but "issues". Problems require resolution. Issues, on the other hand, can be discussed and debated until the cows come home without having to say the "p" word.

I have written an article/book review on junk English usage a few years ago. Junk English usage is the strangling fig of the English language. But I digress.

The error message I got when trying to activate the 500 MB storage space:

Yahoo! was not able to process your order for a new special offer (12:cancelcoupon:cancel coupon : operation not allowed - contact customer service). Please contact a Customer Service Representative.

Chronology of today's SBC-Yahoo "issue" tech supprt:

Contact of the First Kind: On-Line Tech Support, Melissa.

Chatted for about 15-minutes on a slow and poorly designed Cisco message board and replicated the error message. I was referred to Premium Services with a case number and a telephone number 1-877-469-7847.

Contact of the Second Kind: Premium Services, Joseph.

I described the problem, my personal data, and recited the case number to Joseph. No help here with my issue. Referred to Billing Services. Billing Services? Yes. Press menu option 2, then 1, then, 2, then 5, will get you transferred to the right support staff. Please don't hang up. In case of disconnection, call (408)349-5151. (Whatever.)

Contact of the Third Kind: Web Hosting Billing Services, Anna.

(This billing person has no foreign accent. Maybe it had to do with money. Money talk should not be hard to understand.)

I described the problem, my personal data, and recited the case number to Anna. Sorry, this is Web Hosting Billing. You need to talk with DSL billing. Please stay on the line and don't hang up. I will transfer you. (Whatever.)

Contact of the Fourth Kind: DSL Support, Dave.

No menu option sequence to press. Got a real person. Dave. (Dave had a slight accent.) I described the problem, my personal data, and recited the case number to Dave. He was very helpful. Dave stayed with me the longest time. I gave him my account password. He successfully replicated my issue. Now it finally became a worthy issue and a challenge to Dave and his issue solving skill. (It made his day.) He recorded the discussions I had had with his peers. (Whatever.)

Please don't hang up and I will transfer you to Tier Two tech support. (Tier Two?) (Dave liked to say 'please don't hang up' many many times. Whatever.)

Total time spent from Chat to Tier One Tech Support Dave abut: 1 hour 40 minutes.

Contact of the Fifth Kind: Tier Two, Hawk.

(Hawk spoke with the heaviest accent than the previous tech support people.)

You got my case number, Hawk? Yes. And give me your name, account, and telephone number. (Again?) Yes, please. Tell me your password and let me log in as you. (I had to repeat the password alphabet by alphabet - three times. Hawk had a hard time with the spelling of my password.)

Stay on the line, please. This may take 3-4 minutes. I will talk to the engineers (software guys) to see if they want to accept the case. (Huh? Could you not at least say this was really a problem with SBC-Yahoo?). OK. (Whatever.)

The engineers said they will accept the case. They replicated the error. You have been assigned an Escalation Support Number. (Wow! An Escalation Support Number. I am on Level 2.) It's the Yahoo web service (Lucky me. The high priests of Yahoo accepted my petition.) Don't try to activate the account until 72 hours later on Tuesday. (Tuesday???)

Whatever. It took two hours on a simple on-line service matter. Half of this morning was spent on this issue, (strike that), problem, on the first day of my 4-day weekend.

Will You?

I am so glad to see you again.

Perhaps no balm can ease your deepest emotions of hurts and foibles. We all have regrets and hurts...

Still, treasure the vibrant life with which you've been blessd. Beyond, live life more than withered petals locked within your heart. Though crushed, the lavender emits a healing and soothing aromatic. Will you? I know you will and can.

The past is ashes. Let not the coming days inviolate the waking eye.

Be well, my friend.

Godspeed, Captain

With the return of Lt. Colonel Tate two months ago, today I said goodbye to another officer and collegue. He will be deployed to Iraq in ten days, with a stopover in Kuwait.

Godspeed, Captain. By God's grace, we will see you in 18 months.

Alan Jay Lerner's Birthday

Today is AJ Lerner's birthday. Being a fan of Broadway, tomorrow evening I will upload a selection by the dynamic duo Lerner (Alan Jay) & Lowe (Frederick). There are so many tunes from which to choose...

As a place holder, I have the Blue Diamonds of yore warming up with an English version of Kyu Sakamoto's big hit from 1963. This is a rather corny version of Sukiyaki. Otherwise, the arrangement and vocals are pleasing to the ear.

The Ways of the World

Recently I wrote to inquire the well being of a friend who is in a deep funk. The reply I got back was a simple ASCII art: ^_______^. This symbol could be a "big smile", a "forced smile", or "crying". I am not sure which one is in effect at this moment. Maybe all three.

In one of the best loved English poems, Ella Wheeler Wilcox's wrote:

Laugh and the world laughs with you.
Weep, and you weep alone:
For this stolid old earth
Has need of your mirth,
It has troubles enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will echo it:
Sigh, and it's lost on the air;
For they want full measure
Of all your pleasure,
But nobody wants your care.
Feast, and your halls are crowded,
Fast, and they'll pass you by;
Succeed and give,
And they'll let you live,
But fail - and they'll let you die.

Brush Up on Your Shakespeare

One of Cole Porter's musicals is "Kiss Me Kate (1953)." This Howard Keel and Kathryn Grayson vehicle is based on Shakespeare's "Taming of the Shrew." A delightful song in the musical is "Brush Up Your Shakespeare (and they all kow-tow)." Since I am on a trivia state of mind lately, I thought I'd do a Shakespearean quiz with the aid of a James Christensen's artwork.


James Christensen's Shakespearean Fantasy

Below is an enlarged picture of the Shakespearean Fantasy divided into three frames.
Frame #1 (top) has five (5) plays.
Frame #2 (middle) has six (6) plays.
Frame #3 (bottom) has seven (7) plays.

Name the plays.

Here's Looking at You, Kid

Bogart & Bergman - Airport Scene (Casablanca, 1942)

Today is Ingrid Bergman's birthday (as are that of Charlie "Bird" Parker and Dinah Washington).

The final scene from Casablanca has many memorable lines. These lines are crisp and fresh today as they were first written in 1942. Alas, they don't write thes kind of movie dialogs anymore. If one were a classic movie fans, one would understand my sentiments.

If you are a Casablanca fan as I am, and happened to fall into this rabbit hole of a post, perhaps you could indulge me.

Click on Lenvoi's Music Selection (This MP3 Selection Expired) to play the airport finale audio clip from Casablanca. Be warned. It's over six minutes long. If you elect to suffer this indignation, you might as well brave the following question:

If you must choose a spoken line from this audio clip, which would you choose? Choose only one line and submit your selection as comments. Explanation is welcome, but not necessary.

I will entertain this movie trivia for two or three days. After which, I will post my favorite line from this scene.