Category Archives: Arts & Humanities

Arts & Humanities

That Time of Year: Chapter One | Garrison Keillor

Signature from site…

It’s been an easy life and when I think back, I wish it were a summer morning after a rain and I were loading my bags into the luggage hold of the bus and climbing aboard past Al, the driver, and the bench seats up front to the bunks in back and claiming a low bunk in the rear for myself.

We’re about to set off on a twenty-eight-city tour of one-­nighters, two buses, the staff bus and the talent bus (though actually the tech guys, Sam and Thomas and Albert and Tony, have most of the talent and the rest of us just do the best we can). I kiss Jenny goodbye and she envies me, having been on opera and orchestra bus tours herself and loved them.

The show band guys sit in front, Rich Dworsky, Chris, Pat and Pete, Andy, Gary or Larry, Richard, Joe, Arnie the drummer, Heather the duet partner on “Under African Skies” and “In My Life” and Greg Brown’s “Early.”

Fred Newman is here, Mr. Sound Effects, and we’ll do the Bebopareebop commercial about the meteorite flying into Earth’s atmosphere about to wipe out an entire city when a beluga in heat sings a note that sets off a nuclear missile that deflects the meteorite to the Mojave Desert where it cracks the earth’s crust and hatches prehistoric eggs of pterodactyls, which rise screeching and galumphing toward a tiny town and a Boy Scout camp where a lone bagpiper plays the Lost Chord that pulverizes the pterodactyls’ tiny brains and sends them crashing and gibbering into an arroyo, and I say, “Wouldn’t this be a good time for a piece of rhubarb pie?” and we sing, One little thing can revive a guy, and that is a piece of rhubarb pie. Serve it up nice and hot, maybe things aren’t as bad as you thought.

Source: That Time of Year: Chapter One | Garrison Keillor

Now Online! Presidential Papers – Love and Heartbreak, War and Politics | Library of Congress Blog

June 1, 2021 by Wendi Maloney

This story first appeared in the Library of Congress Magazine.

Above image: Woodrow Wilson, a man in love. Prints and Photographs Division. 

When President Woodrow Wilson’s name comes up, romance isn’t typically the first thing that comes to mind.

Yet, late on May 7, 1915, the recently widowed president penned these words to Edith Bolling Galt, days after confessing his love for her: “I know you can give me more, if you will but think only of your own heart and me, and shut the circumstances of the world out.”

That day, the circumstances of the world were weighing heavily on Wilson’s mind. Earlier, a German U-boat had torpedoed the British-owned luxury liner RMS Lusitania, killing 1,195 people, including 128 Americans. Wilson spent his afternoon and evening receiving updates about the horrific attack that threatened U.S. neutrality in a war that had already engulfed Europe and would eventually draw in the United States.

Researchers using Wilson’s papers at the Library may be surprised to encounter the private — and passionate — Wilson behind the formal and somewhat aloof public figure they recall from history books or World War I-era film footage.

“I must do everything I can for your happiness and mine,” Wilson continued. “I am pleading for my life.”

Editor’s Note: Read more, see link below for original item…

Source: https://blogs.loc.gov/loc/2021/06/now-online-presidential-papers-love-and-heartbreak-war-and-politics/?loclr=ealocb

Aside: books & tablets (technology) | FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Screenshot from episode of television show “Manifest”

While watching S3 E4, “Tailspin,” of “Manifest,” on NBC, I saw this intriguing image of a tablet and a book. It made me think of the ways technologies (of now and the future) often integrate and merge with older technologies (i.e. books in this case).

I was thinking about how television didn’t replace radio –it changed it and made it different, but it’s still there.

Modern technology tools like smartphones and tablets are not going to replace the old technology, books. They will change how the two or more work together, and shape the world, and are useful in ways we cannot truly imagine yet…

FOOD FOR THOUGHT…

The best summer books, according to our readers – The Washington Post

By Stephanie Merry, May 27, 2021 at 6:00 a.m. PDT

(The Washington Post illustration)

Summer reading means different things to different people.

Case in point: The subscribers to our Book Club newsletter answered a recent call-out to share the books they’d recommend for the months ahead, and let’s just say this isn’t your typical roster of beach reads.

Gilgamesh and Herodotus were among the cerebral choices that made the cut, among an eclectic crowd of others.

Source: https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/books/summer-books-reader-recommendations/2021/05/26/9067cc96-b741-11eb-a5fe-bb49dc89a248_story.html

How Cultural Anthropologists Redefined Humanity | The New Yorker

A brave band of scholars set out to save us from racism and sexism. What happened?

By Louis Menand, August 19, 2019

The celebrated cultural anthropologist Margaret Mead, photographed in 1930.Photograph from Irving Browning / The New-York Historical Society / Getty

Editor’s note: Includes audio of article…

Not that long ago, Margaret Mead was one of the most widely known intellectuals in America.

Her first book, “Coming of Age in Samoa,” published in 1928, when she was twenty-six, was a best-seller, and for the next fifty years she was a progressive voice in national debates about everything from sex and gender to nuclear policy, the environment, and the legalization of marijuana. (She was in favor—and this was in 1969.)

She had a monthly column in Redbook that ran for sixteen years and was read by millions. She advised government agencies, testified before Congress, and lectured on all kinds of subjects to all kinds of audiences.

She was Johnny Carson’s guest on the “Tonight Show.” Time called her “Mother to the World.” In 1979, the year after she died, President Jimmy Carter awarded her the Medal of Freedom.

Source: How Cultural Anthropologists Redefined Humanity | The New Yorker