You're number one...

I picked up a new fan this week. At CVS, and there were a couple of different deals in effect, so I got it at a significant discount. It was definitely necessary, though. We've had a wicked heat wave the last couple of weeks. Now it's moderated, if not quite ended. That won't be the last, though. You never get through August without some scorchers. Summer might not even end until October.

Picture it

Out on my rounds today I saw a couple of kids with a view camera on the river. I call them "kids." They were probably RISD students but seemed like they'd be underclassmen, or could have even been mature and hirsute high-schoolers. But they very definitely did have a view camera on a tripod aimed at the water. This struck me securely enough that I chatted with them about it for a few seconds.

Film is supposed to be dead. Large format photography like that predeceased it. And you don't really expect to see people of any age engaging in time-intensive hobbies like that. So it's a pleasant surprise.

Pieces on the board

Firekites - AUTUMN STORY - chalk animation from Lucinda Schreiber on Vimeo.

The song is pretty nice. It's by an Australian band I'm not familiar with otherwise. But I'm really here because I'm really here because I'm a sucker for a good alternative process animated work. (In truth any hand drawn animation can be called an alternative process at this point.) This one makes fine use of chalk's tendency to leave traces of itself behind, which you might think is a disadvantage. Extra credit for using more than one chalkboard.

Eye opener

I discovered the work of  Jens Retlev just today.*  Several paintings of his hang on the walls of a Swedish cafe that his wife manages. One that particularly grabbed me isn't on his website. And also, or course, his work does lose something in the translation from paint to pixels. But even a suggestion is pretty impressive.

* Pronounced with a "y" sound? You bet!

The greatest show on Earth

This Canadian puppet show is obviously for little kids, but that doesn't stop it from being clever or possessing a certain dark humor. A ringmaster who doesn't bother giving the new lion tamer any special training could be seen as either evil or dumb, but not terribly good at their job either way. You'll see the twist ending coming, but it's still a good one.

Mercury's up there

Okay, so I messed up looking at Ventusky last night. It turns out that if you don't actually click on your city the service defaults to showing you the weather for Zagreb or someplace like that. Lucky Croats. So the temperature is in the low 90s tonight and probably was last night as well. Ah well, nothing I haven't faced before.

 If nothing else it's a sign to change from red to white if you like having wine at dinner. And there's certainly nothing wrong with a nice chilled pinot grigio.

Men, women, children, dogs

I was invited to a friend's house for dinner this weekend and wound up going earlier tonight. It was mostly quite nice, partly because I was seeing people I hadn't seen in months. Plus a relative (his, not mine) whom I'd never met before.

Met the dogs again too. Actually this time there were three, another guest having brought his Shepherd/something else mix. They were fun. It's hard to believe that, after a bite experience, I went through several years of being afraid of dogs. Except for ours, of course.

Rock on

Grady Hendrix has started to get a reputation for taking on crazy premises in his books and—at least for those kindly disposed—making them work. I read We Sold Our Souls a year or two ago and recently decided to reread it. It does hold up pretty well.

Basically, twenty years a metal band with big dreams got into a serious auto accident. Their main songwriter and lead guitarist Kris Pulaski was at the wheel, but there's time missing from that scenario. Her life was ruined, which is true of a couple of her bandmates too. But not the lead singer, Terry, whose lawyers were behind some sinister contracts they signed.

Hendrix has enough discipline as a writer for there to be a clear through-line to the events. But he's bold enough to put some crazy stuff on that line. Eventually it falls into a rhythm.

Follow suit

There's a haberdasher not far from here, both old fashioned and posh. The fact that it's surprised into the present has to be counted as some kind of accomplishment.

Aside from noting its continued presence, though, I had never taken much notice of it. But in passing recently I've observed a change in their stock. The suits on the headless mannequins are dandyish beyond belief. Brightly colored jackets with patterned lining and baroque neckties.

A reaction, perhaps, to uniform COVID-era sterility. Maybe and maybe not. This style isn't something I expect to see on every corner, but it might be a harbinger in its way.

Love and laughter in 4:3

I finally got around to seeing The Artist on Friday. This is of course the award winning French comedy about a silent film actor who goes from hero to zero when talkies hit, and the slightly stalkerish starlet who does her best to help him. While it's a French movie, it was shot in Hollywood and features a number of well known Anglophone actors (e.g. John Goodman, Malcolm McDowell, Missi Pyle). Ergo what little spoken dialogue there is is actually in English.

Not half bad. It drags a little in presenting George's self destructive downfall, and I think storywise it could have been shortened by ten minutes or so. But, well, that's show biz.

Hitting return

So is there a constituency for manual typewriters in the inherently scary-sounding year of 2020? As it turns out, yes. And it's not hard to see why. These old beaters look and sound great if they're taken care of. There's obviously a lot of history behind them, your favorite author having used one if it's not Thomas Wolfe, who wrote his novels in longhand while leaning on a fridge. And as an internet meme (irony? what irony?) points out, they don't annoy you every 15 seconds with popups.

 I have enough Luddite in me to long for good ol' tap-driven writing. My reality principle is sufficiently developed to know that it's not going to work for me. The thing about the writing world is that a lot of markets disappear overnight when you're just learning about them. And the thing about the writing world right now is that most of them accept electronic submissions exclusively. There are buyers out there where I can't even find out what state they're in. Besides panic, obviously. But even though typewriters represent an impossible dream, I'm heartened that someone is still out there dreaming it.

Tonic

I was feeling a little sluggish today so I put on this record figuring it might pick me up. It worked. Like really worked. And I couldn't tell you exactly why.

That's an upside of not being a musician. I could analyze lyrics, I suppose. I know really basic stuff like, "It's not a chord unless there's more than one note playing at the same time." But why some songs have certain effects? It's a mystery. A miraculous mystery.

And a good thing, too. I can only ingest so much sugar and caffeine, so they can use all the help they can get.

Walk under ladders

I used to tell myself that I could stand up to everyone. That if I saw the whole world going wrong, I would stick to my idea of what was right. Not sure if I ever actually believed this, though. Until now.

Don't get me wrong. When I say everybody, I don't mean literally everybody. And not everybody to the same extent. I have supportive family, friends, a few places to look for answers.

One thing I've done is to cut down my news intake by a lot. Some other people have also done this, and for strikingly similar reasons as me. Here is the thing. It's all fun and games to read a few things you accept are true, a few others that you know aren't quite true, and a lot you don't have a firm opinion on. But when you're just taking in lie after lie for weeks on end, it takes a big toll.

Really I should have seen this coming a few years ago when I first saw them batting around the phrase "an almost alcoholic", gibberish syllables that can barely even aspire to being words. Can you get your drank on or not?

But through all this my decisiveness and overall morale have been growing. Decisions I would have agonized over in the past aren't so hard. And people I actually meet tend to react with a new kind of respect. It's not the confidence builder I would have chosen, but it's the one we got.

XI/III/MMXX

There is an old Chinese curse translated as "May you live in interesting times." China is still around, so it's free to judge whether the curse is currently being fulfilled.

Looking at the current landscape I wouldn't say that Joe Biden can win in November. On the other hand, I think that Trump is quite capable of losing. Overall I'd say that this is the most likely result.

In other news I learned today that the popular phrase "you sweet summer child" comes from George RR Martin's "Ice and Fire" books. That actually is kind of interesting. I had no idea how new or how old the saying was.

Something green

My daily walk took me a little further today. To Dorrance Street, just short of Eddy. I was walking by the river as I like to do, and just crossed the street at a different point, so that Dorrance was a natural place to go.

And I kept on that track because I could see a park. When I say "park" it's a very small space, about a block. But it had a good selection of trees, open and attractive in the sunlight. It was a place I hadn't even really noticed until I had more time. The world presents us with beauty, even if it sometimes seems to be in spite of itself.