Sunday, December 15, 2013

Morrissey's Best Song


Here's a picture that I took in a London market in Islington (near Camden).  It's here because I don't like blog posts with no pictures and because I liked these stamps.  (I bought three, then left them on a London bus. But that's another story).

Camden is a borough of London.  It has a famous market and a famous canal.  It's interesting, like all London neighborhoods.  Morrissey sings about it in "Come back to Camden," a somewhat obscure number in the Morrissey canon that first appeared on his 2004 album You Are The Quarry.  It was co-written by Boz Boorer.  (I looked Boorer up and he's famous, at least inside the music industry.)

I am a longtime Morrissey and Smiths fan but not an obsessive one.  I heard the song for the first time only about six months ago when it spun up on my Pandora playlist.  I  stopped what I was doing to listen. I  heard it again, made note of the title, and bought it on iTunes.  Then I bought it again when  iTunes told me that my computer wasn't authorized to play the track.  (I wondered if prickly Morrissey was requiring hyper-vigilance by Apple to make sure no one's cheating with his music).

I have since decided that "Come back to Camden" is Morrissey's greatest song. (Hold on, there's a link below to a fan-made video so you can listen after I've shut up). I admire the song for the way Morrissey and Boorer invoke the real Camden, with poetry that stands inside the circle of W.H. Auden - e.g.:

Drinking tea with the taste of the Thames, 
sullenly on a chair on the pavement; 
here you'll find my thoughts and I,
 and here is the very last plea from my heart. 
My heart.  
For evermore. 

Where taxi drivers never stop talking, under slate grey Victorian sky, 
Here you'll find despair and I, and here I am 

every last inch of me is yours...YOURS...For evermore. 

That physical Camden is thus summoned economically and powerfully, as is the damaged survivor of a broken love affair:

Your leg came to rest against mine, then you lounged with knees up 
and apart, and me and my heart - we knew... We just knew...


What makes the song truly great, however, is that "Camden" is also a metaphor: a garden of Eden where love bloomed until the shocking eviction.  The hopeless plea at the end of the song,

Come back to Camden and I'll be good, I'll be good!

is delivered with elemental desperation, as heart rending as the screams of a confused child in a hospital.  It is made more searing by our certain knowledge that there is no getting back to that Garden.

In his autobiography (which I am reading now and which is surprising and not surprising all at once - more on that in another post), Morrissey said: "The magical properties of recorded noise had trapped me from 1965 onwards [note, that Morrissey was six in 1965]. Song made a difference to everything, and permitted expressions that otherwise had no way through."(emphasis added).  When I read that, my thoughts flew to "Come back to Camden:" which conveys this world of meaning in its tidy, listenable four minutes and fourteen seconds, thanks to the singing.

All songs are more than the sum of their parts but this song: words, music, and that voice, carry a payload all out or proportion to the apparently modest package.  I hope you will like it as much as I do.




Wednesday, December 04, 2013

Last Night I Dreamt of New York City...

I dreamt that my fifteen-year-old daughter had rented a nice one-bedroom apartment in a high-rise somewhere in mid-town.  I was impressed. How had she managed this at fifteen? I wondered in my dream.  I have been underestimating her, I thought, as I noted that the three rooms were all decent-sized.  I was also worried, however, because there was something menacing about the crepuscular streets below.  Also, though her roommates had not yet arrived, a lot of people had left skis and snowboards in her living room. I was worried these ski owners were taking advantage of her and apartment in Manhattan - and then I woke up.

I know dreams are among the dullest topics of conversation but indulge me. I'm struggling here.  I am trying to stay awake until a grown-up's bedtime.  I am blaming my dream-filled morning for my fatigue.  That and work.  My daughter recently got her first job and she's showing a certain terrifying initiative.  Manhattan is down there waiting. Apparently, I have things on my mind.

OK.  So it is now just past 9 PM and I think I can retire without being  positively geriatric.  Actually, one bit of excitement remains in this short evening. I just downloaded Morrissey's autobiography to my iPad and I'm going to read it as soon as I get my teeth brushed.  I'll report back here.  Here's what they're saying about it over on Goodreads.  What kind of dreams might Morrissey's life story trigger?

Good night.  Thanks for bearing with me.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Great Free Stuff

Do you see that banner?  (The Swan up there?)  I love it so much I may have to go and lie down.  And, (are you sitting down?) a high quality download of the image was free to me (and to us all) from the collection of the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam.  They are inviting people to get into their art, download images, make stuff.  Doesn't it give you hope for humanity?

I got this there tonight:


I would wallpaper a room with this cat.  Have  I mentioned about my Dutch ancestors?

And this.


Let's talk about this bourgeois skating owls who are wearing their (poor) lunch for a moment.  What could this possibly be about? Somebody write a story about it please.

While we're on the subject of FREE and stories, I have to mention that my ebook is free to download on your Kindle or with your Kindle app all weekend.  Here's the link.

I wish it were as wonderful as those owls.  Happy weekend.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

An Open Letter to Fred Armisen - Vermont Calling!

Dear Fred,

We were all so excited here in Vermont to see you last night at the Unitarian Church in Burlington (of all places!).  
 Really, your show was excellent and (I'll say it),  I was a bit thrilled that I got to ask you a question during the Q&A.  
Sorry if I took liberties, like, where you didn't actually call on me, but you made eye contact while my hand was up so...   
My question, by the way, was whether you "should maybe move to Vermont." (Awkward phrasing.  Sorry).  But it was a real question, not an applause line (or not just an applause line).
About your answer... You said something about how with your personal ban on sugar you couldn't face the ice cream situation here   
It was the second time you brought up your sugar restriction during the show.   My friends and I were commenting after the show, BTW, that you were looking very well, if thin in that (celebrity) way associated with people who have restricted diets and can get expensive (vegan, usually) food.  I chalked your answer up to the fact that you are perseverating about the sugar thing and that, expert though you are at improvisation, some things just require a little thought.  
Now that you have had a night to think it over, and have actually woken up, at least once, in Vermont, I expect that you have been pondering my question.  (I hope it didn't keep you up or give you trouble unwinding last night. I would hate that!)  A couple things I felt I should pass on to you as you reflect on your Vermont situation, or current lack thereof.
1.   Lots of famous people live in Vermont,  E.g. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (he's dead now, but he lived here for a long time), Julia Roberts (not sure if she actually lived here, but she visited a lot for a while, or so I have heard), David Mamet (he wrote something once about how he got help on his Vermont taxes, not sure what he's up to these days), Harvey Keitel (I think he's got a house around here. I heard once that he used to go to this restaurant that I like in Stowe), Michael J. Fox (I don't think he's still around, but he definitely did live here for awhile). You get the picture.  Soviet dissidents, playwrights, international film stars. At home in Vermont. Also, Phish.  (I met one of the guys from the band once and he was super nice). Also, either Ben or Jerry.  I can't remember which one left for Arizona.
2.     It's easy to get from VT to NYC.  You can take Jetblue, at least if you don't have a private jet timeshare or whatever.  Maybe you don't want to be, or become, the kind of person who has a private jet timeshare.  While I'm here giving you advice, I'll add that. 
For my part, I like to go to New York now and again and this has been made a lot easier by Megabus service from Burlington.  Megabus, if you didn't know, is a place to see some real This American Life stuff, including drug dealers on a budget.  I actually prefer to drive down to the train station in Albany, New York and ride Megabus into NYC then take the train back up (both leave from the Rensselaer station).  One tip. Don't lean against the headrests on Megabus.   
While we're on the subject of drugs, do not be misled by the person who shouted out last night that we "smoke a lot of weed!" here.  Nonsense. Opiates have become more popular.  Also, we ski. (If you're a skiing type of person [read, "middle class" who hasn't squandered money on drug]s).  Other orders snowmobile and ice fish.] 
3.     If you like Portland, You'll Love Vermont.  You didn't want to compare Burlington to Portland but kind of got stuck there last night, didn't you? I hope you would agree that one of the best things abut "Portlandia" is that it is not a "real" place altogether, but a stand-in for a lot of real places/emotional states.  E.g., "Chinatown" (like, from the movie), The Hotel California, Your Own Private Idaho, Margaritaville, etc.  I don't mean that "Portlandia" is like those places, of course, only that it is also partly metaphorical.  (I was in London visiting friends in September and met people who were trying to bring back organic agriculture on canal boats in the Thames - like, container gardening on these skinny boats. "Londonia?"  I think so).
4.     The License Plates. A pleasant green, no nonsense. 
   In short, I think once you have had some time to let the seed that I so cleverly planted germinate to reflect, you will see that you have a future here in Vermont, like other sensible, occasionally brilliant, famous people before you.  I actually wouldn't recommend downtown Burlington because part of living here in Vermont is keeping it real and Burlington it is just getting to be too much like Burlingtonia. Of course, it is a nice place to visit, as you have now seen. 
Really, we all loved the show and we're so glad you came. Hoping to catch you at grocery store around here sometime soon.
          Your fan,
           Kim




     

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Snow Giddiness

I was surprised when I parted the curtains just after six this morning to find snow all over everything. It looked like this:


My son is twelve and I am pleased to report he had the appropriate enthusiasm for the first grass-covering snow of the season.  We pulled out the sled and the next thing you know I was throwing church to the wind and making a movie trailer.  I am lucky that my son has a sense of humor.  The value-added part of this is that it's almost like a real movie trailer (and I thought it was funny).


Sunday, October 27, 2013

I've Been Away...

Mentally, mostly, but also in the flesh.  After that whole London whirlwind at the end of September I felt like I should get down to her sister city and so went last weekend for an overnight in New York with my daughter.   Fun, but one of those "let's not waste any of our 29 hours here" trips.  New York can really take the mickey out of me.  Here's a picture of my first-born being all atmospheric at a window at the Museum of Modern Art.

A quiet corner in a crazy busy city
And yes, before you ask, we did make it down to Big Gay Ice Cream in the East Village and yes, the ice cream was as good and as expensive as you might expect.  Here's the same teenager eating her American Glob.

Dressed for a photo safari - camo works in the East Village too.


My son decided after a few trips to the big cities that he does not like big cities.  People smoke on the streets.  There are homeless individuals. There is garbage and graffiti.  Vermont has done its work on him, at least for now.  Anyway, though I didn't take him along to New York, I did take him to the McDonald's in Morrisville, VT today.  He noticed that there was a big McDonald's flag waving alongside the US and the State flags:

"I can't believe McDonald's has a flag. What is it? Like the 51th [sic.] nation? Where the poor people live?"  

I corrected him to "51st state" and also noted that McDonald's is too expensive for really poor people, like the ones he has been avoiding...  

Going to toss another log on the fire now. I hope everyone has a good week.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

The Way They Are...

Today's banner is actually the view from behind a London commuter, a week ago today.

Natives visiting the British Museum
Travel is so broadening.  In one sense, I can't be safely broadened any further.  I am too big already, and especially for England, a country of narrow spaces.  (Don't start me on the women's bathroom stalls in one particular jewel of modern English architecture).  In the more important sense, however, of course I need all I can get.

I loved my trip, which ended yesterday when I touched down in (blessedly sunny and bright) Boston.  I traveled alone, but I stayed with friends   I was handed around from one host to another by one particularly kind, cultivated and generally excellent family.  I was shown various corners of London and a few other places in the country by them, very well fed by them (see reference to broadening, above).  I went to see these friends and to see some of the English places that I had fictionalized or by which I had been inspired - from a distance - when I was writing that book (you know the one, see the sidebar ====>).

I did see those people and places and not one disappointment in the lot.  In fact, things were better and more magic than I had any reason or right to expect. Thanks to my native guides, who brought me into the homes of several of their friends, I also got a real look at life in modern Britain. It was fascinating and I'll be thinking about it all and processing it for some time.  Just stopping in here this morning, taking advantage of the time shift to get a ridiculously early start, and to say a little something before the glow wears off altogether.

I am not on the payroll of the British Tourist Board, but I could be.  I don't know anyone who wouldn't like to visit the UK and I am here to say do it if you can.  You won't be sorry.
Castle ruin, just lying around, spotted on a walk...

I'll add before I use up the last the minutes of this found early morning hour that driving home through New Hampshire and Vermont yesterday I also got, for at least the length of the drive, to see our bit of the US through English eyes.  It was so beautiful it could break any heart.  Mine just held on.

More eventually.  Having set my reset button, I'm off for a bike ride.