daniel barenboim. DANIEL BARENBOIM. The Vienna Philharmonic is letting DB conduct the New Year’s shindig!
HAVE THEY LOST THEIR MINDS?? Did somebody else cancel?
Maybe he’ll make us think we’ve never heard the Blue Danube before. Problem is, it will sound like HE has never heard it before, also!
I have been blogging for a while. It is interesting–feels sort of like the journals that English teachers have students do, where one’s supposed to bear one’s own soul while discussing topics like Herman Melville’s imagery for a single reader nosing into one’s life. *Grin*
And it is interesting as to what gets response, or doesn’t, while everyone’s busy lives swirl on. And perplexing when people don’t always click on one’s carefully chosen links (that may be due to the brown-colored highlighting, which is hard to see). Yet, I’m guilty of that elsewhere.
I know I have lurking readers and a loyal commenter (thanks, John). I’ll have to get out and about more commenting on other people’s blogs for some reciprocity. I often feel there’s not enough substantive content around here–it IS in me–but I think one would have to admit that I am kinda witty. I haven’t done enough with the pirate persona–AAAARGH, need to be readin’ up on pirates and swashbuckling, myself. And I wish my celebrity double would misbehave more while selling gobs of his debut album (a very good one, BTW), so I would have some blog fodder. Well, there is this . . .
But these are things to consider next year. I’m taking a break here for a while (I will still comment elsewhere, however). So, until late January . . . Happy Christmas and Merry New Year!
It was supposed to snow in Birmingham last Thursday, the 11th of December. It didn’t. We’re always “in the edge” of such events.
It did snow earlier this year in January. Last Thanksgiving, I got all enthused and “crafty” from having seen Martha Stewart’s show on Black Friday. So, I ordered one of her faux-so-agreeably-cheap feather trees from Macy’s–I had always wanted one of those to serve as a “satellite” to the main tree–and some Desden trims and foil ornaments to dangle thereon. Nice intentions–I fell behind gluing gold stars and bands on red satin balls, Twelfth Night passed with inadequate spanglement, and Martha’s name was mud for putting me through crafting agony (it’s quite easy to fumble the balls and glue the stars to the end of your nose).
But then it snowed, and in slightly tardy compulsiveness, I got to “get er done” on a rare adult snow day–I drug out the put-away ornaments and finished them. So, as of last January, I’m retired from Christmas Crafting and don’t have get out any craft glue this Christmas–that is until the stars start falling off the ornaments!
The only ambition I have now is for a proper Rauschgoldengel. They don’t seem to be available on-line, and I ain’t goin’ to the Nurnberg Christkindlmarkts to fetch one!
Who shall coach Auburn? Someone should cut a brown poke into small slips of paper and, with purple crayon, write the following names for a drawing from Pat Dye’s ball cap.
Auburn head football coach Tommy Tuberville was “Gouged” (fired) today. Poor Tubby.
Gee wiz, a certain omnipotent trustee will have to pony up money to buy out Tubby’s contract. And said trustee is CEO of a certain bank that’s getting money, as reported just yesterday, from the Troubled Assets Relief Program (TARP). Coincidence, surely!
“The $550 million in new capital will enhance our capital cushion and will allow Colonial Bank to meet our customers’ financing needs with additional lending activity throughout our five state footprint,” said Colonial CEO Bobby E. Lowder.
I guess firing Tubby is ultimately Nancy Pelosi’s doing. Or Barney Frank’s!
[DISCLAIMER: The statements above are the humor of an Alabama fan (it's all downhill from here, you know), and do not imply any wrongdoing by the president of Auburn, its board of trustees, Pat Dye, and/or Barney Frank. Nancy Pelosi . . . maybe.]
Can I have purple lips too, Mommy?
If you dream in black-and-white, let enthusiasm be your conscious colorist.
–CAP’N WHOOK
This may just be the most amazingly absurd thing ever, musically speaking (other than a recording of Charles Ives singing while playing the piano that I heard in music history class) . . . which makes me happy!
