Archives
- 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004
- 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004
- 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004
- 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
- 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
- 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
- 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
- 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
- 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004
- 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
- 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
- 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005
- 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
- 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005
- 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005
- 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005
- 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005
- 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005
- 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005
- 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005
- 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005
- 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005
- 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005
- 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006
- 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006
- 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006
- 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006
- 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006
- 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006
- 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006
- 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006
- 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006
- 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006
- 10/01/2006 - 11/01/2006
- 11/01/2006 - 12/01/2006
- 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007
- 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007
- 02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007
- 03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007
- 04/01/2007 - 05/01/2007
- 05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007
- 06/01/2007 - 07/01/2007
- 07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007
- 08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007
- 09/01/2007 - 10/01/2007
- 10/01/2007 - 11/01/2007
- 11/01/2007 - 12/01/2007
- 12/01/2007 - 01/01/2008
- 01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008
- 02/01/2008 - 03/01/2008
- 03/01/2008 - 04/01/2008
- 04/01/2008 - 05/01/2008
- 05/01/2008 - 06/01/2008
- 06/01/2008 - 07/01/2008
- 07/01/2008 - 08/01/2008
- 08/01/2008 - 09/01/2008
- 09/01/2008 - 10/01/2008
- 11/01/2008 - 12/01/2008
- 01/01/2009 - 02/01/2009
- 04/01/2009 - 05/01/2009
- 07/01/2009 - 08/01/2009
- 09/01/2009 - 10/01/2009
- 10/01/2009 - 11/01/2009
- 11/01/2009 - 12/01/2009
- 12/01/2009 - 01/01/2010
- 03/01/2010 - 04/01/2010
Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's BĂȘte Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com
Friday, June 15, 2007
Bicycling in my neighborhood at dusk today, I waved hello to my librarian and stopped and chatted with the produce man and the former meat counter man at my grocery.
I don't know any of these people's names.
I love my neighborhood.
* * *
The sweetest montage I ever heard was in an NPR piece when Mr. Rogers died. A reporter collected recordings of people singing his theme song, and edited a complete performance from his interviewees, each of them singing one line apiece, in correct order. I heard old people, young people, white people, black people -- everybody loved Mr. Rogers.
And it's a nice song! He was a music major in college, and the chords are jazzy.
I used to sing the song to my son when he was a baby -- it was a diaper-changing song. "I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you, I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you." Tender song.
* * *
I dissed NPR recently, in limericks, in the comments thread of a post by Kyle Gann. Then I felt bad for dissing NPR -- and not just because they played an excerpt from a song of mine in a story once (and posted the whole song on the web). (The song is satirical, so my dismissive formulation "aesthetic mock tale" isn't necessarily dissing myself -- necessarily.)
I don't like most of NPR's news hosts -- the chronic ho-hum tones of their voices are the sonic equivalents of the dictionary-picture definition of "liberal elite." But they do have some good stories and shows. I don't expect aesthetic adventurousness from them.
* * *
My song, which NPR posted in November 2005, is a setting of an excerpt from a letter Scooter Libby sent to former New York Times reporter Judith Miller, urging her to take the necessary steps to win her release from jail. (Alex Ross suggested it as a possible song text.) Now Libby has been sentenced to 30 months. He deserves it -- at least.
* * *
And, you know, even if I bumped into Libby regularly at my neighborhood grocery store or library, I'd still think he needs to go to prison. But then, I have never wanted to have a neighbor just like him. I feel bad, thinking Mr. Rogers might disapprove. But some of my neighbors, I don't like them just the way they are.
Comments:
Post a Comment