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Every post, every photo and link a winner: Cabbage Babble

Feel Good Friday: The Neighborhood of Twitter

On a peaceful Thursday evening, I sat before my laptop listening to French pop songs on my iPod trying to decide whether or not to post a video for Feel Good Friday. I was considering the lovely Arielle Dombasle when I found inspiration via Twitter.

A user who goes by the name The Jazz Avenger posed a question to his followers and got a reply with a very Feel Good story:

Yesterday I asked for some suggestions for under-appreciated jazz greats. @chrisphillip25 suggests Johnny Costa http://is.gd/eWkQ

He was called "The White Art Tatum," Johnny Costa, and you can hear utterly amazing dexterity and speed in those fingers.

He could have been a big star, and toured the world. But? He didn't.

Well he did travel, but he couldn't take it, couldn't take the time away from his family.

So he returned to Pittsburgh, which was his home town. And who should he meet but a guy named Fred.

And this guy Fred wants to work in television but for the strangest reason. He hates television. Makes perfect sense right?

Well Fred last name, it turns out is Rogers. And he's starting out a TV show called "Mr. Roger's Neighborhood" this is for children.

And Johnny Costa, one of the most brilliant and talented piano players ever known becomes the musical director of that show in 1966.

And will remain in that position for the remainder of his life.

Here's Johnny Costa playing the opening credits to "Mr. Rogers Neighborhood" http://is.gd/eWtb Does his playing sound familiar now?

So does that story make you happy or what? http://is.gd/eWum

Very cool. Not being familiar with Johnny Costa, I loved learning about him bit by bit as the tweets of info came in one by one to my phone.

So now I have my Feel Good Friday for you. And I recommend following The Jazz Avenger to you jazz-loving Twitter folks.

Georgia

Obama, Steely Dan and Rex L. Camino. All cool.

I saw a great tweet a few minutes ago on Twitter:

@tomdevine: Obama pre-news conference music: Steely Dan. He's now officially our coolest president

Indeed.

And I was instantly reminded of one of Rex L. Camino's best posts ever. Rex stated how one cannot listen to a song like "Babylon Sisters" and not find his walk affected. There are no hurried movements, no clumsy lumbering around while Fagan and Becker work their magic and their cool. One can only glide, or as Rex says, "creep."

“Babylon Sisters” causes me to unintentionally creep around, and this only amplifies my already cat-like ability of movement. I often have the misfortune of sneaking up on people. ... the rest>>

Soon to be the proud big sister.

Brother and Sister

Yum!

Evidence of a life almost unrealized.

Poet and novelist James Dickey once dated my grandmother. That little story I've known for years. What I didn't know is that he made mention of her in letters to his mother in a book entitled The One Voice of James Dickey: His Letters and Life 1942 - 1969. It's somewhat interesting to get a peek at a relationship that, if it had gone a certain way, could have negated my very existence.

Some excerpts from the book:

I meet [sic] the swellest girl in Nashville. She is wonderful. I like her better than anyone I ever went with, including Peg Roney and Gayle.

And:

There is an awfully nice girl in Nashville named Jane Davis who seems to be quite taken with me. In all her letters she is always talking about marriage. She is full of ideas about houses and apartments and cooking and learning to "do things together" and all in all paints an enticing picture of connubial bliss. I would sure like to have one like that around. She would really go all-out for her husband; but I'm afraid I'm just not the domestic type. She is dying to get married. I know you'd like her. However I can't forget that freckled slant-eyed, honey-haired vixen I've been sweating out all these years.

Well, all I can say is thank goodness for that "freckled slant-eyed, honey-haired vixen." It was my grandfather who ultimately married the "swellest girl in Nashville" and the rest is, well, the rest leads to me. My fourth child has a due date of April 15, 2009. My grandfather, William Samuel Rickman, and his wife Jane had four children and his birthday was April 15, 1923. In tribute to him, we decided on Samuel for our baby's name if he was a boy. The baby, however, decided to be a girl so we're naming her Samantha Jane. Samantha as a variation of Samuel and Jane in tribute to my grandmother, Jane Davis Rickman.

My thanks to both my mom and my cousin who found the book and its references to my grandmother.

Hey Heineken Execs...

This should really in your next print ad campaign. Tragedy, indeed.

And Sand Was Between My Toes

Fernandina Beach

Slumdog Millionaire, All Vibrant and Frenzied

I saw the wonderful Slumdog Millionaire tonight with my dad. Just, wow.

More than anything, it's the very real images of slums and poverty that stays with. Making beggars out of children. Blinding them for better "revenue." Such a lack of hope for the poor. Victims.

Then it's the story. My dad, who also loved the film, was wisely critical of a few things that didn't quite make sense. But overall, director Danny Boyle hit hard and fresh with every single shot. The pulsing beats of M.I.A. played loudly through frenzied and frantic scenes of desperate lives with motivations both violent and romantic.

Vibrant colors and quick jump cuts kept my pupils dancing from beginning to end. Rooting for the heroes and even forgiving tired old lines ("What will we live on?" "Love.") because, well, that's what some eighteen-year-olds say and they deserve for us to root for them, especially Slumdog's Jamal, played superbly by Dev Patel.


This is no review. I'm just writing to write and I wanted to repost this picture because I thought of it while watching the movie today. The girl in the picture could be the beautiful Latika who was undoubtedly Jamal's destiny.


Thanks for stopping by.

Love

Regarding Dexter

I want to thank Leesa for turning me on to the awesomeness that is Dexter. Just, wow.

Tomorrow I get to pick up the last episode from Season 2 from the library. I can't even express how giddy I am to find out how the season ends. I remember back to when I saw the episode of The Sopranos when Janice shot Richie. She fired the gun and I was so shocked. I was sitting in my living room watching it and called out to my wife who was quietly reading a book in the bedroom. "Honey," I yelled. "Janice just shot Richie!"

I knew as I said that how into that show I must have been to assume that someone who hadn't ever even watched an episode must be told exactly then about that momentous development in the show. All things considered, what a silly thing to get all excited about. But still, there it was. Something on T.V. that was awesome and worthy of an "Oh, my God!"

That's just how the second to last episode of Dexter: Season Two ended for me. Had my wife been awake, I would have included her in the moment, had she cared or not. Lila finds the cabin. She hears Doakes' voice. Oh, my God. How will this end? Well, I get to find out Thursday night. I'm giddy.

This post is somber but short.

More and more of my friends are losing their jobs these days. Gone are the days of me feeling sorry for myself for my low wages. I'm appreciative as anything for any wages at all, lowly or otherwise. More and more, I'm the lucky one. Yikes to that.

Come on, 2009. We're all counting on you. My informal poll indicates that hardly anyone I know has been pleased with how 2008 went down for them. I ask about highlights and get some heartwarming answers, but the overall take on the year is that it was an exceptionally tough one.

Well, if it don't kill ya, it makes ya stronger, right? Leaner and meaner, right? Here's hoping. I'm always hoping.