Greatest hits?

I was out and about Monday and Tuesday, transporting kids here and there, and back to here, then there again. This alotted me the time to sit and wait between dance classes, school and Girl Scouts. Now that the sun sets at like 3 p.m., I can't sit in the car and read, so I listen to music and nap.

Anyway, I was listening to The Beatles compilation "Beatles 1," the most recent collection of hits. The CD features singles that reached No. 1. I got to thinking how this really short-changes people on quality Beatles material and I felt bad that many people will go through life without hearing lots of other good Beatles stuff.

Think of this: Radio is more obsolete than ever. Who listens anymore except we old people? And by getting your material online, you exclude all the things you don't want to hear, thus, things you might like but will never know you like because you never heard it.

Missing out

So, people will not hear many classic Beatles tunes. "Beatles 1" has nothing from "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" and "The Beatles," aka The White Album. No singles were released from those LPs. It's missing classics like "I am the Walrus," "Strawberry Fields Forever," "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and "Here Comes the Sun." It also has the single version of "Get Back" without the banter and the famous, "I'd like to thank you on behalf of the group and myself and I hope we pass the audition."

Thanks, Mo.

The releases "The Beatles 1962-1966" and "The Beatles 1967-1970," the "Red" and "Blue" albums issued in the 1970s, are a better bet. They're each a double album, so you get a better breadth than with "Beatles 1."

But even those have some significant holes. None of those albums have "I Saw Her Standing There," the opening cut on The Beatles first album, "Please Please Me." This song rocks and declares to the world that The Beatles are different than anything that came before, that the music is about emotion, sex and more sex. Oh, and did I say sex?

They're all missing "Every Little Thing" and "Good Day Sunshine." All the kick ass covers like "Dizzy Miss Lizzie," "Money" and "Roll Over Beethoven" are missing.

You can get those on "Rock 'N' Roll Music," the "Silver" album, also from the 1970s, but then you miss the love songs like "This Boy," "Yes It Is," "I'll Follow the Sun," "Julia" and "I Will."

But you can get some of those on the "Past Masters" CDs, but then. ...

What to do

A coworker asked me once what Beatles albums to have in her collection. I don't think I answered very well, and still really can't.

You really ought to have "Sgt. Pepper's," but you should also have The White Album as contrast. And "Meet the Beatles," but you should then have "Abbey Road" and "Please Please Me" as alpha to omega. But you need "Rubber Soul" and "Revolver" for the intellect and craftsmanship. And "Let It Be" for persepctive. Even "Magical Mystery Tour" because it has a collection of singles you ought to have. But you won't get "Hey Jude" or "Revolution" that were only singles.

Maybe you should get "Beatles 1." But then you'd be short-changed on quality Beatles material. Maybe you should get the . ...

Thought: This reminds me of the book, "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie."

The shape of holiday

Above is a picture of the Thanksgiving dinner about to begin. Elspeth is on the left, with Alyssa, then Betty (still in her smock from preparing the meal) and our guest for the afternoon Sue Ringersma.

We had a nice day. Besides eating, I slept most of the day. As usual, I've been sick. Still am. Slept most of Sunday as well. I like sleep.

Holidays mean nothing but stress at work. I have to expend double the effort to get a day off. The problems it causes are immense, for my position anyway. You see, I'm neither high enough up the management chain nor low enough to work a shorter week and get a true holiday. I still worked four days (my normal week) at 50-ish hours, so, I had Thanksgiving Day off (thanks to Krista for working that), but worked another day of the week I normally wouldn't.

In the words of Monty Python: Now that's a fair court!

OK, I'll stop the whining. ...

The shape of things

The problem of leftovers raised its head as the Thanksgiving meal finished, and the "problem" (as if having enough food could be a problem!) of fitting the leftovers into the fridge again contronted us.

Poor Jayne. She again had to hear my rant about storage containers (that is, Tupperware) in the refrigerator. Here's the thing: Why do companies make, and we buy, storage containers that are round? Bowls for food storage -- what's the point?

The storage containers need to be rectangular or square because the refrigerator is rectangular. Duh. If all our containers were rectangular, we could better use our storage space, not leaving gaping spaces between round bowls. Thus, more could fit in the old ice box.

It's like a life-sized game of Tetris.

Same with my cooler I take to work. My lunch items need to be in rectangular storage containers so I can maximize the space in the rectangular cooler. Throw in a round container and, well, I cut my carrying capacity -- and eating potential -- in half!

So, until my refrigerator and cooler become round, I say no to circular bowls and those "compromise" oblong abominations.

Illumination

One more thing for my Dad and brother-in-law: I actually successfully changed the headlight in the Kia. Write this one down.

I haven't changed a headlight since Chevy stopped making those rectangular housings for cars (I still have all the "special" screwdrivers for that!). So, yeah, it's been a while.

Usually I take the car to the dealer and have them change the light while I had other work done. This way, I didn't look like a total mechanical incompetent. But the Kia dealer is in Grand Rapids about 50 miles away and gas is $3.29 a gallon and, even at 30 miles per gallon in the Kia, it's not worth the trip. The journey would cost more than the bulb.

But I managed not to explode the bulb by smearing my fingers all over it. And I did not break the cheap bent paperclip-like apparatus that holds the bulb in place. And it works!

Thought: The light that has lighted the world!

Some reading and watching

I had mentioned a few weeks back that I finished "Dombey and Son" and was looking for something else to read.

My wife gave a collection of essays on atheism that was interesting. Well, I didn't read them all -- that's some heavy stuff -- but have enjoyed looking through works by Emma Goldman, Mark Twain, Albert Einstein and Joseph Conrad.

I picked up a collection of Robert Browning's poem's again. I love this volume. Jayne got it for me and it was published in 1949 in England (still has the price marked in pounds in it) and it does not footnote, thank goodness. I find constant breaks with notes to stop the flow of poetry, like coming to a stop sign every block on a bike ride. It just slows you down and sucks the life out of you..

I think that's why people are taught to hate verse. In school, it's constant analysis and breaks and more breaks and analysis. Just enjoy the rhythm first, then look for the meaning, like listening to music.

I'm reading "Paracelsus," whose photo I stuck at the top of this blog. He was a 15th- 16th-century doctor and alchemist. I'm still reading through it and will be for a long while -- a poem from the 1830s about a medieval alchemist/scholar is not a ride on the S.S. Minnow!

Blazing Saddles

Speaking of TV: I had a coworker say the other day she did not like "Young Frankenstein" or "Blazing Saddles." Shocking!

These are some of the top film comedies created, but that's for another blog. I settled down last night to watch "Blazing Saddles" on AMC to revive my shaken views. I expected an uncut version, but got one that hacked out blatant obscene words and covered up all racial terms!

Oh, come on. Without the word nigger, the movie loses its humor and, most importantly, its social relevance. It becomes emasculated slapstick. The movie is funny because it confronts society's racism and, instead of wagging a finger at us for our idiotic beliefs, it turns up its middle finger and waves it in our faces.

The scene where the town folks have to negotiate their fate with the black railroad workers is hilarious, but AMC cutout the white man's rant about which ethnic groups his people would work with. The censors left in, "but not the Irish."

That rant is a great social commentary on the idiocy of racism, but people who watch it on AMC won't know this.

Thought: Someone's gonna have to go back and get a shitload of dimes!

The Pirates of Allegan County

Just had to share the above picture.

The girls are playing pirates with their stuffed animals (Webkinz, to be exact). They are having a sea battle using the laundry baskets. They crumpled up paper, pretended they were cannon balls and threw them at the animals. The last animal hanging on was the winner.

Thus I spent my Sunday and had lots of fun. Yarr!

Fuji in repose

Also Sunday, I cleaned up my bicycle, wrapped it in its cover and hung it up in the garage for the season. A sad day. The temperatures are OK, but daylight is in short supply.

I've already started riding the exercise cycles at the Fennville community center. I want to be ready for a banner riding season come March -- I have plans. (Insert maniacal laughter here).

Thought: Insert bold pirate "Har, har" here as well.

Bookin'

A few months back, I asked for some suggested reading. My sister suggested the recent book about Ben Franklin, but I had read that already. I looked back over some of Franklin's writing, his autobiography and the reasons to marry an older woman. A colorful character.

I did pluck an old favorite off the shelf, "Dombey and Son" by Charles Dickens. I finished it recently. This is an earlier work and I can see shadows of "Bleak House," "Our Mutual Friend" and "David Copperfield" in it -- I think John Carker the Manager is an early Uriah Heep and Edith is an early Estelle from "Great Expectations."

There are two particular things that haunt me about this book -- the use of the ocean and its waves, which are very important to young Paul's death and the rebirth of his sister, Florence (picture above); and how Carker dies.

The Manager's death

Carker, who has run away from his boss, Mr. Dombey, with Dombey's proud and unbending wife, Edith, tries to control Edith, but she refuses to be used. So, Carker escapes from the posse that is pounding at the door (Dombey is in this group). Later, as he is waiting for a train, he turns on the platform and sees Dombey and is so suprised he falls into the path of a passing locomotive and is torn to shreds. Dickens describes the aftermath well, with dogs licking up Carker's blood.

The train is as important as the waves to the story. The train is the agent of change that elevates the Toodles family (whom Dombey despises for their very name!) to Dombey's status. When Dombey rides the train after his young son's death, the train carries him through surreal environments.

The waves

And the waves? They call the young son to his death. They crash the boat "Son & Heir" that Dombey owns and cast Walter Gay into the sea, where he fights to survive and return to claim his true love, Florence (Dombey's daughter). And they carry Walter and Florence to China and return them with a child to resurrect Dombey himself from his death bed.

I often think of this novel when I stand on the shores of Lake Michigan. I, too, wonder what the waves are saying, who they are calling to where.

Of course, I love the secondary characters as well: Captain Cuttle with his glazed hat and hook hand; Mr. Toots and Susan Nipper; Biler (such a cove with his pigeons); the Game Chicken (a great name for a thug!); Alice and her mother (the very mirror of Edith and her mother) and Joey Bagstock, old J.B., who talks about himself in the third person (a few years before Seinfeld, I must add).

This is a good read and relatively short (about 800 paperback pages). I recommend it, especially for people who are afriad of Dickens or think him boring.

Thought: What to read next?

At the playground

Above is a picture of the kids at Paradise Park, a playground in Fennville.

Alyssa calls it "the wooden playground," to differentiate it from the metal, ceramic, glass and stone playgrounds we so often frequent.

The kids and I walked down Sunday (the playground's only a few blocks away) to get out of the house and enjoy the nice day. They dubbed me a dragon and I chased them around until we were all tired -- for me, a few minutes!

What a great way to spend an afternoon!

Trial over

The Janet Chandler murder trial wrapped up last week, which means I'm back on a regular night schedule. This should help me shake the stress that's been overshadowing me through these nearly 70-hour weeks.

In the trial, the four defendants were found guilty. No surprise here. Ottawa County convicts on almost every case. I think a jury would have convicted Mother Theresa of solicitation, if given the chance.

I'm not saying I doubt the jury, but there was zero physical evidence in a crime committed more than 25 years ago. And the witnesses were a parade of sorry, inept, contradictory, unstable people who had been alcoholics or suffered from strokes, heard voices or just forgot things that suddenly came back to them with prodding from police. Hmmm.

I'd certainly have trouble with this one. I suppose that's why I don't live in Ottawa County.

Thought: Hooray Bills!