I return to posting because of Fred and Ginger, and Barack Obama. The president has encouraged us all to “pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and start all over again” several times over the last few months, but it was only when NPR reminded me of this delightful scene in Swing Time that I thought about the lyrics and got all misty.
My generation may have been the last to get that occasionally dangerous, always reductive dose of exceptionalism in our school history classes, the notion that perseverance is a particularly American quality. Now that we are mercifully post-exceptionalism, the inclination to reflect on the Depression-era difficulties of my grandparents and great-grandparents is inspiring simply because they are all people who made it through times so bleak. And, like them, people are making it through right now.
There are no great, greater and greatest generations. Most people whose circumstances allow them to generate a small gleam of hope for themselves will continue to move, in fits and starts, toward something better. Depressions end. Recessions end. Hope never does. Despite circling realities, it’s a particularly good day, so at this moment I really believe that.
Layoffs yesterday. Inevitably more to come. We’re safe for another chunk of time. Played this little movie for our girl last week and when she wakes up I’ll play it for her again.
I’m old, and resistant to what seems like the now normal method of disseminating new music through commercials. I’m actually fairly resistant to anything being disseminated through commercials, but that’s another matter. Once in a while, though, the music placement works; it gets me. A Volkswagon ad brought me back to Nick Drake, and, more recently, a Cadillac ad introduced me to M Ward. I subsequently introduced him to our girl. YouTube offers no footage of that lovely song, “Here Comes the Sun Again” other than the commercial, so instead we began playing this one, “Chinese Translation” from the fantastic album Postwar. We generally avoid animation in our little movie breaks, just not this animation.
This feels like a short story to me. The sound of the road, the music on the radio and the sudden blurry glimpse of the first camel in a small band of babies, parents, brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles. The drivers slows, then stops, takes in the scene, then life moves on.
UPDATE: Alas. Removed from youtube because of a terms of use violation. It was lovely though. Perhaps I’ll find another that captures that same sort of moment. “Terms of use” has me wondering. Was this actually from a movie? Was one of my favorite “real life” moments not so real? Ah, the modern condition.
Our girl calls her Miss Nina and she was her first favorite singer, leading the way for Mr. Dan (Zanes), Mr. Bob (Dylan), Mr M. (Ward), and currently Mr. Cat (Stevens). But we always come back to Miss Nina, and this amazing song, “Ain’t Got No…/I Got Life. She actually sings her directions to the band: “One more.”
There is really no measuring the train-love around here. There is so much that’s great about this clip: the low talking of the passengers, the tunnel, the curious little guy and his mother watching the engine getting coupled to the carriage. My favorite bit is the whistle, breathy and like something from another time.
At the end of her music class my daughter’s teacher always gives her students a hand stamp of an instrument or musical notation. The french horn lasted longer than all the others and despite its final days of looking more and more like a prison tattoo than anything else, our girl was delighted. It led us to this, which delights us still…
This is how it all began. She loved the foxes in her Baby Animals book and I thought I’d see if someone had shot some video and posted it on YouTube. Little did I know… Now, upon reflection, perhaps it’s not wise to encourage the hand-feeding of wildlife, but I still have a soft spot for this video of Vincente (Fox) and the guy who took the time to film him.
