I’m trying to picture what delta a Welshman and Yorkshireman are on about. I guess,”You’re my Ffrwd Cerriguniawn Lady” doesn’t trip off the tongue, and “You’re My Humber Estuary Lady” has too many syllables, so they went with the Mississippi.
Well, at any rate, when was the last time you witnessed that kind of concentrated awesomeness? I mean, that would give every woman in the world the vapors, one way or the other, wouldn’t it? The beauty parlor set gets Tom Jones, Joe Cocker covers the women that fall between the barstools. The overlap is immense.
One caveat: There’s a misalignment in the video between the images and the sound. I wouldn’t want you to get the impression that Joe was weird or anything.
(Thanks to reader Charles for sending that along. I can die now)
Something approaching perfection in a pop combo. Glenn Tilbrook and the Fluffers.
I heard a little while back that Glenn was in the market for a skinny bass player, but he never called. Look what he had to settle for. I mean, she plays OK, but I’m much prettier.
Regular reader and commenter and loverly person Harriett Gillham put this in the comments after Summertime Music:
Wing window wake? Nice alliteration. Perfect imagery. and Sly and the Family Stone? make me smile, every time. Do you know of Mother’s Finest? The band? They could be local down here in the South. You just know so much about music that I thought I would ask. I loved them.
Well, I used to be a DJ on a college radio station back in the day, even though I didn’t attend the college, (what’s the statute of limitations on these things, anyway?) and I remember Another Mother Further, vaguely. I liked their cover of Mickey’s Monkey. I’m fairly certain the broadcast strength of that station required the listener to be close enough to the transmitter to hit it with a snowball to pick up its emanations, and I’m almost sure you had to open the window, too, so I doubt Mother’s Finest owes me a thank you note and a small remuneration for introducing Framingham, Mass. to their awesomeness.
It’s crappy to say kids these days, and all that other nursing home remembrance, but the radio sure could use a dose of plain fun right now. People like Lady Gaga all take themselves seriously. That’s pop entertainment death as far as I’m concerned. It’s supposed to be trivial, and so, fun. If I want serious, everyone’s going to be wearing a tux or an evening dress and sawing away at something hollow and wooden, thanks.
I don’t know anyone in this video, or anyone in Hancock, Maine, either, as far as I know; but there are only 1.3 million people in Maine, so they’re all my neighbors, I guess.
I of course especially like to see people making stuff that other people can make other stuff out of. I could make all sorts of things out of the pine boards you see exiting the mill, and have, and likely will again. House-y sort of stuff. I’m fairly certain I could build a whole house and all the furniture in it out of nothing but 1×12 common pine boards, and it would still be better than whatever you’re living in, no matter how elaborate. It’s an infinitely useful material, and since a pine tree is a weed here, it’s infinitely infinitely useful stuff — the best kind.
The new owners are taking a chance, I’ll bet, by re-opening this mill. They’re betting on demand that is not currently in evidence. Maybe they think they’ll prevail in a game of economic musical chairs instead of expanding capacity in preparation for an uptick in business. I hope not. People need jobs here, badly.
They took a $200,000 government giveaway to restart the shuttered lumber mill. The aroma of Gerry Ford and the redolent smell of Jimmy Carter is on the money; I’m old enough to remember when the Community Development Block Grant was introduced. Like everything to do with the government, everything but the government might go away, but I’ll bet the CDBG never will.
The last owners “went away.” The Crobb Box Company went out of business just last year. They’d been in business at that location since the 1940s. Think of all the economic tumult they’d endured since then, and what sort of economic Armageddon it would take to finally kill them off. Fans of ascribing everything bad that happens to a business solely to mismanagement or simple creative destruction should pause for a moment and consider that in 2008, the Small Business Administration gave Crobb Box the “Jeffrey H. Butland Family-Owned Small Business of the Year award.” If Crobb Box was a disaster, why’d they get a government award ten minutes before they drove to the economic tollbooth with Sonny Corleone? It’s the same government that gave Pleasant River money to re-open the place on top of the barely-room-temperature corpse of Crobb. Were they wrong then, or are they wrong now?
I’m pretty sure that’s a rhetorical question. The answer is probably “yes.” They have no idea what’s going on, except to wreck it, blame someone for its demise, or take credit for it, depending on what week it is.
If Pleasant River makes a go of it (I hope they do), then they didn’t need the money. If they’re going to go the way of Crobb, then the grant money wouldn’t save them. What would be useful is a return to some sort of transparency in the basic workings of the market. There’s no transparency in much of anything anymore. It’s surrounded by impenetrable walls; sometimes the walls are made of block grants.
Month: June 2012
sippicancottage
A Man Who Has Nothing In Particular To Recommend Him Discusses All Sorts of Subjects at Random as Though He Knew Everything.
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