Lin's Recycling

The first time I met Lin, I wondered what an elderly Oriental woman was doing in our alley at 6 in the morning. She felt as though she owed me an explanation, so without my asking, she asked if i would mind if she collected the metal cans from our alley containers. I told her that as long as it didn't mess up the alley, it was OK with me. Over the years, Lin has come to our alley hundreds of times. Almost every day. Very early in the morning, and always very quiet and considerate. She lays the container down on its side, and then, on her hands and knees pulls out the aluminum cans, quietly. She even straightens out the row of containers when she is done. There are other scrap collectors who come and go in the neighborhood. They are usually noisy, dirty, and leave a mess when they're done going through the containers. We used to have a man in his early twenties who pulled a coaster wagon behind him with a boom box blasting away at Hispanic rap music, as if the clanking and rooting weren't enough noise for us.

Lin is always very meticulous about keeping the area neat. She usually wears rubber gloves to protect herself. In the winter she is bundled up in a brilliant yellow snowsuit. We've had an ongoing conversation over the years. Lin always knows how the scrap prices are doing. If she sees me in the alley, she always waves, and sometimes comes over to talk awhile. One day she told me she collected scrap because it was good for her blood sugar, and she loves getting exercise and being outdoors. She has grandchildren who are in grade school.
I feel good about having Lin as a part of my neighborhood. I save the cans out separately, and do what I can to time it out so that the scrap is going to be there when she arrives. Since she's usually the first one there early in the morning, that's not too difficult. And I tell the neighbors about her -so they don't chase her off. I let them know how conscientious and regular she is. I'm sure if Lin saw something amiss in our alley, a breakin, or someone hurt, for example, she would get help. Because she cares about the neighborhood she serves. And we care about Lin.

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

The American Farmer

Back in the early 1980s, I worked as a night clerk in a Best Western Motel in Watertown, Wisconsin. Midnight was my starting time, and I'd get off of work at 8 am. Except for coffee with the cleaning ladies at 5:30 am, I'd usually be working alone quite a bit. I used to draw pictures in pencil on scratch paper to keep myself entertained, and I stuck them up with Scotch Tape in hidden spots around the front desk, because great art is meant to be shared.

My first character, (before the ducks stole the show) was The American Farmer. He was inspired by the patriotic lectures Eddie Albert used to give on the TV show Green Acres, one of the greatest television shows ever made.
The American Farmer was a plain man who enjoyed the simple pleasures of farm life. He and his wife kept all the holiday traditions as best they could.The American Farmer is always a good neighbor, putting his own projects and concerns aside if necessary.
A part of the American Tradition:

.... and meeting the needs of his herd
Working with government agencies to better meet the needs of America
and staying abreast of the latest technological innovations
well, you know what the farmer said when his dog died..... "Never done That before."

I hope these turned out legible on your computer. Tomorrow my head will not be hurting so much, and I'll be back to writing. A word of advice: If you are climbing up a ladder, and try to move a steel door closer arm by hitting it with your forehead, you will not necessarily develop Super Powers from the impact. This is not the movies. This is Reality, like on TV.

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

How Would Chopin Say It?

The most important thing about Polish pronunciation is that there is no hope of ever doing it right -- if you're not Polish. The Polish language was developed with but one objective in mind: for the Polish to correct non-Polish people who are trying to pronounce it.

Take something as simple as those wonderful cabbage rolls they always make in the church basement. Here in America, they call them "pigs in a blanket", probably based on their appearance, because they don't usually contain pork. A meat-loaf-y mixture of hamburger, spices, onions and rice is rolled up into a cabbage leaf, and the whole thing simmered or baked in tomato sauce. Nothing compares. Dare you to have one and not ask for another!

If the Germans would make a dish like cabbage rolls they would find a straightforward way of describing it, so they know what's for supper, or Abendessen, as they call it - the Germans have a practical way of hitching words together until the meaning is clear. They'd come up with something like "cabbage" = kohl, und "roll" = roll, so cabbage roll would be something on the order of "Kohlenrollen" or something equally melodic. What my Grandpa would say would be much more to the point. "EAT YOUR DINNER AND SHUT UP!" or, if it was something he really liked, he'd say "NOW, FRESS!" (feed). And we did.

But leave it to the Polish to argue about endlessly about how to say it until the food gets cold. They call it Golabki. But don't think from reading that word that you can talk about it with the Polish. Oh, no! They don't say "go LAB Key" or "Go LOPP key" Heavens no. It's pronounced "Ga WHUMP key", and if you don't say it right, they are willing to work with you until you get it right, and the Golabki is cold, and everybody else starting on dessert.

Their names are much worse. When they arrived to this great land on Ellis Island they were given perfectly good phonetic spellings for their names, by immigration clerks with infinite patience. But then, they must have changed the pronunciations just for the sake of being Polish, because they weren't used to words that you could sound out. "Zew" is now pronounced "SHEF". "sie" is sometimes spelled "zie" and it is pronounced SHAY.

If a Polish American were ever on "Wheel of Fortune" and Vanna asked if they wanted to buy a vowel, they'd say "Naw, what for?"

The Poles have an inborn LOVE of correcting people's pronunciation. "No, not WIZH-wah-TAY, it's WIZH-wah-TSEE!" -- and the word you're trying to pronounce is spelled C-G-Z-Y-X-P-R-Z.

I've worked with the Poles, and around them for almost ten years, now, and survived. I love them, actually, and adore their cooking. They have in turn accepted me as "pretty good for a German, but he must be a little hard of hearing."

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

Coyote Goes to Church

I have been threatening to get a tiny camera that I can carry with me. Sometimes I see such unbelievable things, that I'd need a photo to validate my story. I don't have a cell phone, but there must be some little camera I could put in my pocket for these constant Kodak moments. For now, you'll have to take my word for it.

This morning started out almost normal, for a church morning. I'm the organist at a Polish National Catholic church in Milwaukee. I hadn't received my hymn list via email, so I was thinking I might have to improvise with a medley of Beach Boys tunes. But the hymn list was in the bulletin, so I quickly arranged the notes, and we started.

About 10 minutes into the sermon, there was some activity below. I looked down, and there was a brown chihuahua heading down the center aisle of the church, running and barking. The owner, a tall blond-haired lady in blue jeans, following after the dog, apparently oblivious that they were in a church during a service. The lady finally realized where she was, and walked up to Father, who was, as I mentioned, giving the sermon. He stopped, and talked to her, off-mic. Coyote, the chihuahua, meanwhile went sniffing around the altar. The lady repeated an affirmation that Father gave her. After this impromptu confirmation, the lady called her dog, Coyote, and the two of them, now saved, headed back down the aisle and out the door.

Minutes later, Coyote comes trotting back down the aisle, followed by the lady. Second thoughts? This time the tone of events was a bit more agitated. When she reached the front of the church, the lady said, loudly "Coyote, take the stand!". This lady was, apparently, still out on the town from Saturday night. As before, the chihuahua went trotting dutifully around the altar, sniffing and barking. But this was now some sort of hostile hijacking of the service. The lady was gesturing and railing loudly at Father. After a few seconds, Father said, politely "I'm giving a sermon, now. It's time to go."

At this, the altar server got up to block the lady's entrance to the altar area, repeating Father's suggestion that it was "time to go". The visitor, now outnumbered, decided that it was time to go. She called to her dog, Coyote finished his reconaissance, and she and Coyote stomped out of the church.

pokojowy z wami


Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

Closing Time - Marian Has Left the Building

I believe that public libraries have outlived their usefulness. Spare me all the howling and the Norman Rockwell clattering about Main Street, USA. You're only showing how long it's been since you paid more than lip service to a public library. Marian the Librarian has retired, and Donna Reed never worked there - that was a figment. I have been to Main Street, and it's not like that any more. (never was, actually, but that's a different story)

Do you know what happens in the Milwaukee public library system, when a child does not return a book? NOTHING. There are no fines, no charges for lost materials, no attempts to recover the materials, NOTHING. Why? A librarian told me: "They're trying to encourage the children to read, to get books into the hands of the children, and it 'sends the wrong message' when a library requests responsibility of the kids, and asks them to return what they have borrowed." So, what's the next child in line going to do, if the book is not on the shelf, but, instead is in an abandoned Walgreen's bag on the sidewalk two blocks from the school? Never mind, I've seen what happens when you've been 'sent the message' that you don't have to repay what you borrow. Can you say "Fannie & Freddie?". Message received. Can you even read the books you leave lying around in the public way? Welcome to the new slave stratum.

The library organizations have become bloated bureaucracies, unaccountable to the people who are paying their salaries. The selections are made by agenda-driven indoctrination committees. Titles are selected by the same rulers-of-the-world that are turning out the illiterate geniuses by the hundreds from the public schools. And the people at the desk are crabby and don't want to help you. So, if you like the weight of an old cloth-bound book in your hand, and the feel of a crumbling old page as it gives up its wisdom to you, forget it! There's nothing like that at the public library any more. Go look.

In fact, there's nothing at the library that I couldn't find on amazon & ebay for pennies. And Google and Gutenberg are trying to get everything that was ever in print scanned and digital, in most cases searchable, so, for research purposes what can a public library find that can't be dialed up on a $50 used computer, or even a cell phone for that matter? Nothing!

There was a movie version of the first Stephen King novel, "Carrie". A girl has telekinetic powers, and she goes to the library to do research. An extended closeup of the hands going through the typewritten index cards in the library's wooden card catalog drawer. It was very quiet. You wanted to leave the show-house and go to the library and research something.

I remember the Watertown Public Library of my childhood, with those yellowing volumes on wooden shelves, with duck-tape reinforced spines (they didn't call it duck tape back then, and it was maroon or black) with the titles and Dewey Decimal numbers hand-written on the backs in white ink? And Mrs. Roberts at the desk, keeping an eye on you that you didn't bring in food, or just sit there talking with your friends. Remember how nice the inside of a an old book smelled?

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

Gruel 101

The following is an excerpt from a play I wrote in 2002, called The Last Murder at the Renaissance Faire. The play was written as the last of a trilogy of plays which can only be described as shameless pandering to audience demands, in other words, Givin' 'Em What They Want. We noticed the popularity of murder mysteries, parodies of local news, and medieval story lines and costumes. So we made something that had all three. We presented, using a cast of thousands, lavish costumes, and original music, what we billed as a Renaissance Murder Mystery. The series was received enthusiastically by our audience. Of course, people got killed -- but you gotta expect that in the Renaissance, it wasn't safe like nowadays. But, fortunately, with the aid of one of the great minds of the Milwaukee Renaissance, Leonardo Devinski, the mystery of who was doing the killing was always solved by the end of the play.

Although it takes place in the Renaissance (on the 3rd day of the Renaissance, to be exact), many of the characters bear an uncanny resemblance to people we meet in our modern world.

In this scene, the crowd of gullible and useless peasants gathers to gawk at a show staged as a part of a local entrepreneur's spectacular entertainment for the masses - Taff Vision - Where Weather Cometh First!

Taff (offstage voice)
Next – a Moment with Lady Martha. (lute theme)

Martha
How to feed thy men-slaves to keep them strong, and yet subservient. Today’s Moment with Lady Martha – Gruel 101.

Clyde (wanders into Martha's space, oblivious to the audience)
Thou art truly a comely lady. Wouldst that I could work for thee in thy mansion!

Martha
Meanest thou that?

(Clyde nods, Martha gestures, two of Martha's men attach manacles to Clyde, drag Clyde off the stage. As the struggle subsides offstage, Martha’s men bring out, on cue a bowl, with a cloth covering it, plastic insects, box of wheat, a wooden spoon, and a small plate.)

Martha
Canst always use another slave.
(imperiously shouting) For truly can I devise chores for a thousand men. . . (thunderclap sfx)

(regains composure, lute theme) But back to gruel. After a hard day of toil, there’s nothing like partially warmed gruel to settle a man into his place. Wholesome gruel hath its secrets. Verily do I always start out with the remaining gruel from yesterday. It addeth a mellow flavor. Check for spoilage . . . (Lifts cloth, sniffs, grimaces, shrugs.)

Good enough for the menservants. We stir the mixture gently, and blend in some more grain, but not too much. The good thing about gruel is that it multiplieth -- shouldst thou have guests, or another slave be added unto thee -- a little water canst thou add. Voila! More gruel!

Verily hath there always been some lively debate about the insects in the wheat. Some would let them be – truly they do add a zesty crunch to the batch. However, I usually pick out the larger ones, especially the beetles. (picks large beetle out of batter) These can be dipped in ordinary candle wax to make adorable scarab ornaments! And gristle -- a bit of gristle goeth a long way, hesitate not to experiment – thy servants are verily grateful for the variety. My gruel do I usually serve with a tiny sprig of rosemary, just for color.

Gruel – ‘tis a Good Thing.

Thanks for listening. Your comments are welcome. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

Only Bernie Knows -- The Ballad of Bernie Madoff

Today, the first time i'm uploading a video, hope this all works.

This is from a concert that took place in our theater on the afternoon of June 13, 2009 - a whole room full of people having fun on a Saturday afternoon. A.L.'s unabashed sincerity has won over thousands of people in his long musical career in Milwaukee.

His band, One Lane Bridge, on this day includes Kathy Ratzberger, on guitar and backing vocals, and Rami Espinosa on electric guitar. That's A.L. himself singing lead and playing guitar.

Most of the songs A.L. sings in his shows are his own - Only Bernie Knows is one of his compositions. He wrote this song while watching live news coverage on a cable channel of Bernie Madoff's sentencing. We recorded this song twice. The first time I was laughing too hard to get near the camera. This is the second recording.

If you should have trouble seeing the video, the YouTube address is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiq9Z58dfjw




A note to the ASCAP "fun police". This is an original composition, performed by the composer, produced for video with composers' and performers' permission, and uploaded with the permission of the composers and performers. ASCAP has nothing to do with this. Move along, thugs!

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52