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July 26th, 2007

sawng

(as in "with a sawng in my haht")

A few weeks ago I found, in the CDs in this house, a burned copy of the soundtrack to a movie (not out on DVD) called Niagara, Niagara. I didn't recognize the handwriting on the disc; probably somebody gave it to Holly. Anyway, I listened, and there was good stuff there.

At first I wasn't sure I liked this one cut. He's almost whiny in the nasally tone, especially in those first few intervals, in the first couplets of each verse---they hit a note on the scale (the 5th, I reckon), at a point in his range, that's practically asking for it that way, somehow or another. And on my little stock Mac speakers, some of the lower guitar notes come out a little muddy-muddled.

But the melodically simple little number has gotten to me. Maybe those lower lines/couplets after the higher ones are a relief/release of tension. Maybe it's partly the lazy but liltingly bouncing beat of his plucking those strings. And maybe, okay yeah, I dig that lyric. And I do like how, singing along, I get to go just about to the bottom of my own range.

Anyway, I keep playing it, and singing along:

.mp3  -->   "Bring Your Sorrow Over Here" -- Jason Morphew (1997)

the woidsCollapse )
 

another sawng

This one's for you, SRMTB:

.mp3  -->   "Take This Hammer Whup" -- Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee (1977)

I acknowledge something vile in co-opting a chain gang song to apply to planning to quit (or celebrating quitting) a job. It's only like that the way the torture of (say) some babe is like real torture. Which is, you know, pretty much not. But a little. Some.

Best part of the song: the extra beat. The stolen moment. One tiny extra bit of respite.
 

I intend to eat something in a bit.

But first, hello. I have a few minutes while the Chinese food is made and the new driver gets lost on the way here (inevitable) (I have the worst address for delivery folks). I'm also downloading freshly-posted music. Seemed I might as well pop in here again.

Today was the day, hot on the heels of the news that it's scientifically proven that fat people make our friends fat, that Dick Cavett was vile about fat people in the NY Times (by subscription only). Which actually made for a good fat day, believe it or not. Even though I spent a bit of it reading the comment thread to that op ed, where it was at least 50% ugly yay-hoo chiming in with idiocy & hatred.

I was just watching Dick Cavett's old TV show on DVD last night, mattera fact. Odd coincidence.

Anyway, Paul/BigFatBlog had a good piece yesterday on the 1998 change in BMI and what counts as how fat, but it was the comments to today's post on the new study that included this gem, by BFB member pjrichardson:

First I was just fat. Then I was fat and unhealthy. Then I was fat, unhealthy and a bad person. Then I was fat, unhealthy, a bad person, and personally responsible for exploding health-care costs. Now I'm fat, unhealthy, a bad person, and responsible for both a collapsing health-care system AND everyone else's middle-aged spread.

At the turn of the last century, we found all sorts of "scientific evidence" that justified, almost made righteous, the ill-treatment of non-whites... I suppose we'll never learn.


Nice one, no? And that's not even my favorite bloggage about fat today.

It's always a debate how---and whether at all---to respond to ign'ant blather and other assaults in this vein. Mostly it seems to pay primarily in terms of the value, to one's self, of not just sitting by silently (which is not to be underestimated, I know, but which often hardly seems to compensate for the frustration and pique that go with having to raise such a voice again to begin with, let alone deal with the crap that usually follows). At some point you just figure what's the m-f'in' point. But there can be an m-f'in' point. Points, even. Including that, when you put it out there, somebody on the same page, or who might someday want to be, may witness it.

Apparently there are more and more anti-fat TV shows now, and coming on now. I just heard tonight about one called "Fat March." Another benefit of being almost entirely a DVD girl any more. Spares me (fatphobic) commercials, too.

One other fat thing: despite my reputation (deserved), in the family and elsewhere, I do draw the line sometimes. Funny it should seem so daring to draw the line at being allowed to exist, as I am, and not take absolutely all the sh*t that goes with that. But then again, that can be kind of a culturally radical thing to do, can't it? And not just when how you are is fat.

There goes the delivery driver again---second confused pass. Gonna have to hoof it out there to the corner and flag down my fat fuel. It just goes with the territory: as long as I live here, it's going to be tricky to communicate where I am.
 
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