Even if you’ve seen these photos before – they are always good for a laugh. I inherited my copies fourth hand; if you can help me assign photo credits, please do so!
I note there are no people around now. Except, um, the photographer.
(The WP Weekly Photo Challenge wants to see horizons.)
I’m a disaster junkie. Natural disasters amaze me. I hate it when people get hurt, but the forces of nature that create the disasters leave me awestruck.
A couple years ago, I learned about Lake Okeechobee, a sinkhole that is the seventh largest freshwater lake in the United States. That’s a big sinkhole!!
I also learned that tragically, in the 1920s, hurricane winds blew water over the tops of Okeechobee’s levees, which killed hundreds of people. Since that time, the levee tenders say they’ve rebuilt to withstand anything the Earth can send their way. (Hmm. Where have I heard that before?) There is apparently some controversy about whether this is true.
Knowing all this, I had to see Okeechobee for myself. A family reunion staged on both coasts of Florida gave me the opportunity I needed. As my son and I drove from the Atlantic to the Gulf, he agreed to a detour so that I could see my sinkhole.
I only got to make one stop at Okeechobee, and that briefly. (I hope to go back for a longer visit someday — probably alone.) Still, it did not disappoint.
Here is what I saw.
The “moat” around Lake Okeechobee.
That human speck at the top of the levee is my son.
Fishing boat heading for the lake.
In the background, the bunker. In the foreground, my son jumping from post to post.
Florida has a lot of sky.
Many of the levees are topped with biking and walking trails. It could be fun to circle the lake!… Maybe… The circuit would take more than one day….
That is indeed a large sinkhole.
(The WP Weekly Photo Challenge asked to see a horizon.)
On my occasional trips to Florida to see family, I have been repeatedly disappointed in efforts to spot alligators out in the open (not planted at a zoo or theme park).
Please understand, I don’t have a death wish. It’s not like I traipse through the Everglades calling here gator gator. I simply search for remnants of gator culture in Florida suburbs, under the assumption that surviving gators will shun humans rather than eat them.
They certainly shun this human!
An unfounded claim.
Horizon-tal symmetry.
We almost didn’t get the picture – took us many precious seconds to figure out that speeding up to see him before he got away made him run faster to get away.
Even if you’ve seen these photos before – they are always good for a laugh. I inherited my copies fourth hand; if you can help me assign photo credits, please do so!
On the plus side, use of existing materials to solve problems is a sign of creativity.
Yes, this concert was a long time ago. (And why do I write concert reviews, anyhow? My readers probably don’t have a time machine so can’t attend. ) (Well, Sue, I write concert reviews in hopes of sharing awareness about the musicians.) (If anybody out there does have a time machine, be sure to let me know! There are many concerts I wish to revisit and this one tops the list.)
One sentence post. Five sentences digression. A new record?
Which adds three sentences to the digression tally.
ANYWAY.
This concert changed my life. In just a scant few hours, I discovered two of my all-time favorites: one a musician, the other a venue. Chris Thile, the Largo at the Coronet.
I went to the show without knowing Thile’s music. I was ignorant of then-adolescent-Thile’s famous, defunct, alt-bluegrass band, Nickel Creek. I went to the show because I was on the Punch Brothers email list-serv. Thile is a Punch Brother, and that list-serv announced Thile’s show near me, and I figured what the hey. At that time, I didn’t really know the Punch Brothers’ music, either. As serendipity would have it, I had recently been in New York for work, had a few hours between meetings, happened to get a ticket to a David Letterman show taping. The musical guest happened to be the Punch Brothers. They played one song and it was awesome, so I found their list-serv. But I hadn’t gotten around to listening to them. (P.S. Turns out they are awesome all the time.)
Thile is a miracle, one of a kind. If you don’t believe me, maybe it will help to learn that T-Bone Burnett calls him a once-in-a-century musician; Yo Yo Ma raves about him. Even more persuasive, perhaps: my teenagers, who I basically forced to attend this concert with me, spent the entire 45-minute drive home thanking me for forcing them. Also, Thile recently won a MacArthur (“Genius”) award, although he doesn’t talk about it much.
Thile primarily plays mandolin. That first concert, he mostly played bluegrass, and Appalachian music, to which I had no aversion but also no previous affinity. He threw in some Radiohead and Shins. Oh, and Bach. Oh, and the Pink Elephants song from Dumbo. In fact, strands of Pink Elephants kept winding their way into the middle of other tunes, which became laughoutloud funny.
I love good stage patter and Thile had great patter that night. He’s witty, sarcastic, friendly, and smart. Turns out he used to be a regular at the Largo, before he moved to Brooklyn. So there was a warm, homey air in the theater.
Largo at the Coronet Marquee (from coolspotters.com)
Turns out there is always a warm, homey air at the Largo at the Coronet, a 300 seat theater with great sound, painful seats and an incredible vibe. The instant I first walked into the courtyard I felt right, being there. I’ve become a regular. In fact, the Largo has ruined me for other venues. Sadly, I missed out on the original Largo, a tiny bar down the road a piece. When the Largo relocated, it took over the Coronet, which was once a legit theater. Buster Keaton played there. Bertolt Brecht directed Charles Laughton there. Like I said, an incredible vibe.
Largo shows feature a collection of regulars, as well as newcomers. There are comedians and musicians who perform there every month and hang out there the rest of the time. That first night, three other regulars joined Thile on stage. So not only did we discover Thile and the Largo, we also got blown away by Fiona Apple (a modern chanteuse and unique songwriter) and Jon Brion (a musical encyclopedia and champion, maybe not in that order) and Sean Watkins (a wonderful songwriter, guitar player and dry humorist who was in Nickel Creek with Thile).
Now that you have read about the Largo, please forget about it. 300 seats sell fast, I don’t need more purchasing competition.
If Thile ever plays anywhere remotely near where you are – Go. Just go. Don’t miss that show for any reason.
There are many splendid Thile videos on YouTube. Below are a few.
The WordPress Daily Prompt inquires about firsts.
Even if you’ve seen these photos before – they are always good for a laugh. I inherited my copies fourth hand; if you can help me assign photo credits, please do so!
Are the guys on top waiting to come down?
Even if you’ve seen these photos before – they are always good for a laugh. I inherited my copies fourth hand; if you can help me assign photo credits, please do so!
Getting it down may be trickier.
The WordPress Daily Prompt asks: “6:00AM: the best hour of the day, or too close to your 3:00AM bedtime?”
Neither. Both. Sometimes.
Don’t shoot the messenger.
My answer has changed over the years. It used to be that I was only up at dawn if I was still up from the night before. If I could set my own schedule, that would probably still be true. Actually, what I would prefer is to sleep a few hours at night and the rest of my hours in the afternoon. Afternoons are useless. I like afternoons about as much as Camus’ Stranger likes Sundays. But I digress. Somebody told me that 4 hrs night/4 hrs afternoon is a paleo sleep schedule: it’s how our distant ancestors slept. Alas, not sure when or if I can give it a try. My sleep schedule has rarely been up to me. Jobs, schools, doctors, repair guys – they’re the ones in control.
Nowadays, half my body clock seems to be permanently broken. I can still stay up until all hours and most nights I must force myself to go to bed at a decent hour. But – after so many years as a night owl trapped in an early bird world – I cannot sleep in. Period. So I am now quite familiar with 6 am.
Fortunately, 6a is a marvelous time of day, when all is fresh and full of potential. In my household, I am the only dawn enthusiast, which makes 6a a “me” time of day. You will find me writing then. Or exercising at my outdoor bootcamp class. Or hiking. Hiking into a sunrise requires a bit of planning – it all changes so remarkably quickly. The photos below were taken scant minutes apart. Every single day, the world starts in this beautiful way, whether we are there to witness it or not.
A couple minutes before 6a. Goodbye to night.
Clock photo from fotosearch.com.
Cover art by Lars Huston.
Until the end of October, 2013, get a free e-copy of WAS IT A RAT I SAW, my psychological thriller involving split brain research, animal rights, and a love quadrangle.
I’ve recently distributed some copies for readers’ reviews and I am thrilled to report that so far the ratings have been great!
Here’s how to get your free copy:
* Go to RAT’s page on Smashwords,
* Click the blue “Add to Cart” button.
* Proceed to checkout, but instead of paying, use coupon code KX86E.
* Let me know (via a comment on this page) if you encounter problems.
After you read it, please write a review! (Readers’ reviews are incredibly important to indie authors.)
My To Read list is decades long, so I rarely stop to re-read a book, no matter how much I love it. Lately I’ve made exceptions, though, for books that mattered to me long ago. With some, I’ve been curious about whether they would hold up. With others, I’ve simply wanted to reunite with old friends.
Thus, over the last year, I have discovered that these books hold up well:
Stand on Zanzibar by John Brunner, a 1960s skew on a dystopian future, many details of which are now Life As We Know It. Brunner writes this in a style that was unusual in the ’60s and remains distinctive today. Some people lose patience with it. Give it 50 pages to settle in.
In Deep by Patricia Cooper, a brooding character study of a smart, troubled woman with tangled, suspect relationships. Cooper’s writing is edgy yet smooth and insightful. I wish she had continued to write novels.
After Leaving Mr. MacKenzie and Good Morning Midnight by Jean Rhys, portraits of independent, sensual women, damaged by life in a society where women were supposed to be neither.
If chick lit had books like the above, I would seek it out.
Double Indemnity by James M. Cain, a perfect slice of noir. Here, every word counts, making it an excellent training for any aspiring writer. Reading it reminded me I need to watch the movie again, with a brilliant script by Raymond Chandler.
Which brings me to Chandler. I have been happy to (again) reconnect with all seven of Raymond Chandler’s novels. He remains my favorite author. If you have never read him, start with Farewell My Lovely.
As you may have guessed, I recommend all of these books.
Required Writing 