06 July 2018

At the vineyard at last (the ultimate laborer, that is)

Jimmy Carl Black:  If we’d all been living in California, it would have been different.
FZ:  If we’d all been living in California, we wouldn’t work at all.
– from Uncle Meat

Theodore Bikel (singing):  And may the Lord have mercy on the fate of this movie,
And God bless the mind of the man in the street.
– from 200 Motels

Michael Palin:  Actually, I’m a gynecologist, but this is my lunch hour.
– from The Poet McTeagle

On 28 Sept 2017, I was in DC, enjoying An Evening With the Firesign Theatre, or What’s Left of Them with my old UVa mate, Eric Brissman.  The next morning, as reported here, I did most of the work writing a brief bagatelle for clavichord, for David Bohn.  Not surprising, since I approached the task in a needless hurry, there was a wrinkle or two to “compose out.”  Indeed, there is some rhythmic gnarliness, in the form of non-intersecting irregular groupings, which I offered to reconfigure in a less reading-resistant manner, but David gamely persisted with the Ur-text.  And this week, David allowed The last man to come to the vineyard to work to go live:

No comments: