Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Vital Viewing (Multiple Grammys Edition)



Comedian Steve Martin was born on this day in 1945. Back in the 1970s when he mostly did stand-up, Martin often used props, such as an arrow through the head or a banjo that most of the time just hung from his neck. Or when he did play the instrument, it was just more comic shtick, as when he couldn't even get through the first line of  Stephen Foster's "The Old Folks at Home" ("Way down upon the Swanee River..." as, say, Bing Crosby sang it) because he played the wrong melody ("Way down upon the Swan...")  

But none of this means Martin couldn't play the banjo, and play it well, if he wanted to. In fact, he's a lifelong aficionado of the instrument, and about ten years ago, finally decided to let everyone know this, putting out a few albums, and playing seriously in front of an audience (albeit with a little comic schmoozing between numbers.) In the following clip, Martin explains why he likes the banjo so much:  



Even though you can play anything on it, maybe even Mozart for all I know, the type of music one probably most associates with the banjo these days is bluegrass. And without a doubt, the most recognizable bluegrass composition (thanks to it being the background music of Bonnie and Clyde as well as numerous 1970s rural car chase movies) is "Foggy Mountain Breakdown". In this next clip from 2011, Steve Martin and several others (including James Taylor, that's him in his trademark cap) rehearse Flatt's and Scruggs' famous instrumental for an upcoming celebration of Carnegie Hall's 120th anniversary:



Pretty god, huh? And that's just the rehearsal!




You know, I said before that "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" was without a doubt the most recognizable bluegrass composition, but it just occurred to me that Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs may have composed one that's even more well-known: 



 I guess it depends if you spend more time at Carnegie Hall or watching Nick at Nite.

 Anyway, it's time to bid Steve Martin adieu: 



I wonder if Tommy Newsom ever played bluegrass.

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Quips and Quotaions (Play to Your Strengths Edition)









 If your head tells you one thing and your heart tells you another, before you do anything, you should first decide whether you have a better head or a better heart.


 --Marilyn vos Savant


 (She knows what she's talking about--the woman has an IQ of 228!)





Monday, August 6, 2018

Vital Viewing (Human Relations Edition)



Actor Peter Bonerz, best known for playing orthodontist Jerry Robinson on The Bob Newhart Show (it looks like the role paid well) was born on this day in 1938. In the following clip, he and Newhart talk with Conan O'Brien about the value of working in an ensemble: 


In case you haven't been to the circus lately, here are the Flying Wallendas:


 I can't bear to look.


 So I'll look at this instead:





Didja hear all that talk about rating people? Which reminds me:



She once got a 10. And not out of a million, either.

Monday, July 30, 2018

Welcome to Archie's Nightmare


By day she's a loving wife, mother, and grandmother...


...but by night she's a party animal!

Saturday, July 28, 2018

Insecticide

Mansfield Advertiser, Mansfield, Penn., June 24, 1914: 


  Have yet have to find out why they wanted flies at a pharmacy....



...but I bet this would have been worth a whole lot of nickels.

Sunday, July 22, 2018

This Day in History


 For a change, I'm doing a post about my hometown (note the spelling.) After all, it has its own history, as I'm sure all your hometowns do, too.



Before Cleveland was anything, there was an area in the foothills of the Appalachians to the west of the Thirteen Colonies, in-between Lake Erie in the north and the Ohio River in the south, that was known as Ohio Country or the Ohio Valley. Judging by the map above by a young surveyor named George Washington, not much seems to have been known about the region. But that's because Washington was a then-subject of the British Empire, and probably shouldn't have been in there in the first place. Though the indigenous people who lived there had their own ideas about who owned what, on a geopolitical scale the Ohio Valley was considered part of the French Empire in 1754, when this map was drawn. However, British fur traders wanted to open up shop in the neighborhood, and this invasion of turf helped touch off...


...the disingenuously-named French and Indian War (in fact, Native Americans of various tribes fought on, and were taken advantage of by, both sides in the conflict.)


The British came out on top in that one, and one of the awards for doing so, according to the 1763 treaty of Paris, was the Ohio Valley. However, the dust had barely settled a dozen years later...


...when there was another war, this one revolutionary in nature, and another Treaty of Paris (1783), that granted the Ohio Valley to the newly-created United States of America.


But which United State? Back in those Articles of Federation days, individual states had as much say as the federal government, and four of them--Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia--claimed the Ohio Valley as their own according to colonial charters drawn up back when the Union Jack still flew from government buildings.


The Continental Congress put an end to all the squabbling with passage of the Northwest Ordinance...


...that was subsequently included in the new Constitution. The Ohio Valley, as well as some of the territory that bordered it, was now the property of the federal government, but wouldn't stay that way forever. Once a particular locality had been settled by enough people, it could be admitted to the Union as a state.


Despite this, Connecticut managed to hang on to a tiny slice of the Ohio Valley in the northeast that it called the "Western Reserve".


All these years later, the term is still used here and there.


Connecticut eventually put the Western Reserve up for sale. It was bought by a group of speculators who formed the Connecticut Land Company.




 Among those investors was this man, Moses Cleaveland (note the spelling.) A prominent lawyer, as well as a brigadier general in the Connecticut militia, Cleaveland was asked by the directors of the company to survey the Western Reserve and make sure they all had a sound investment. He agreed to do so, and set off from Schenectady, New York in June 1796 with a crew of about 50, including six surveyors, a physician, a chaplain, a boatman, and a few emigrants. Two of the men brought along their wives.


When Cleaveland arrived at--hold on a second! With all due respect to the good people at the Great Lakes Brewing Co., this particular Moses didn't have a Red Sea in his path.



 While some traveled by land, most of Moses Cleaveland's expedition went in boats up the Mohawk, down the Oswego ("what goes up ,must come down..."), along the shore of Lake Ontario, and up the Niagara River, probably stopping to see the Falls along the way (though not on the Maid of the Mist--it would another half a century before you could do that.) At Buffalo, they were stopped by members of the Mohawk and Seneca Indian tribes, who said they were trespassing. Cleaveland bought them off with goods valued at $1,200. The party then coasted along the shore of Lake Erie, landing at the mouth of Conneaut Creek, where there were again more Indians, who got whiskey and beads as a kind of toll fee. The expedition then continued to cruise the Erie coast, finally landing at the mouth of the Cuyahoga River on July 22. Moses Cleaveland then got out of his boat, took one look at the attractive plain with its lush forest growth nestled between the river on the west and the Great Lake on the north, and decided it would be a great place to build a city. He had streets and town lots drawn up, and on July 22, 1796 his crew decided to name the place Cleaveland (note the spelling) in his honor. Satisfied, the expedition's leader and the new city's namesake went back to Connecticut, never to return. His work was done.



As impressed as Cleaveland had been with his discovery, there was a problem. Great Lake + mouth of river + lush forest growth = swamp land. Of course, swamps can be drained, even back then, but potential settlers were scared off anyway, and population growth was slow. However, one man, Lorenzo Carter, was determined to make a go at it.



In 1797, Carter bought Lot 199, which was about 2 acres of land, for $47.50, thus becoming Cleaveland's first permanent settler. In addition to a home, he also built the Carter Tavern, which quadrupled as a town hall, hotel, and religious meeting house. The settlement s-l-o-w-l-y grew. It wasn't until 1820 that it a population of 120.




However, both Moses Cleavleand's and Lorenzo Carter's instincts about the location's potential proved correct with the completion of the Ohio and Erie Canal in 1832. A key link between the Ohio River and the Great Lakes, Cleaveland was now connected to the Atlantic Ocean via the Canal and the Hudson River (and some 120 years later, the St Lawrence Seaway.) The population soared.


The Ohio and Erie Canal isn't quite as important to the economy nowadays, but it makes a nice scenic bike path.

Today is the anniversary of the naming of my hometown, so let me return to that before we go.

 Here's a map of Cleaveland (note the spelling) in 1814:


 (I'm showing you a lot of maps today, huh? I'm a regular Rand McNally.)

Here's a map from 1836, and this time I'm not even going to put it in parentheses: NOTE THE SPELLING: 



Looks like an 'a' was dropped sometime between 1814 and 1836, the year Cleveland was finally incorporated. So what happened?

The explanation most often given has to do with the town's first newspaper (an example of which I can't find online.) Originally it was to be called the Cleaveland Advertiser, but when the printer tried to put that on the masthead...

                          CLEAVELAND ADVERTISE 

...it wouldn't fit, so they made a little adjustment:

                                                    CLEVELAND ADVERTISER


 As evidence of the power of the press in those pre-internet, pre-televison, pre-radio days, the rest of the town went along with it.




Even if he never returned to the area, Moses Cleaveland is still very much remembered here in Northeast Ohio.

But what about Connecticut, where he spent most of his life, and where he died? Is he honored there as well? Turns out he is (one last time: note the spelling):


First the city was named after the man, and now the man is named after the city!

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Smart Art (Dutch Selfies Edition)


Whether I'm right or whether I'm wrong
Whether I find a place in this world or never belong



I gotta be me, I've gotta be me
What else can I be but what I am



I want to live, not merely survive
And I won't give up this dream
Of life that keeps me alive





I gotta be me, I gotta be me
The dream that I see makes me what I am



That far away prize, a world of success
Is waiting for me if I heed the call


I won't settle down, won't settle for less
As long as there's a chance that I can have it all


 I'll go it alone, that's how it must be
I can't be right for somebody else
If I'm not right for me



I gotta be free, I've gotta be free
Daring to try, to do it or die
I've gotta be me


I'll go it alone, that's how it must be


I can't be right for somebody else
If I'm not right for me


I gotta be free, I just gotta be free
Daring to try, to do it or die



I gotta be me

Old Master painter Rembrandt van Rijn was born on this day in 1606. As you can see, he liked to spend a lot of time in front of the mirror.