This is a yawl, ya'll

t'is I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow

Perfect music performed perfectly:

I've been aware of Eva Cassidy for some time, and having heard her just a bit, I assumed she was a cult hero, a musician known more for her brief and tragic career rather than her talent. But tonight on NPR I heard this performance, and I understood. I finally understood what the big deal was.

Many singers pound the high notes, since it's somewhat easier to work at the top of one's range when over-singing. But Cassidy doesn't do that. Instead she interprets the lyric with control and nuance. The high notes are delicate, appropriate for the message of the song. This is fine singing by a fine singer.

Oh, and songwriters? Let me know when you've written a melody that can compare with this one.

Danny Boy is actually a melancholy song, sung by a father whose son is going off to war. But it can be interpreted as a cry for unrequited love, or anything the listener feels right. But the melody . . . again, most songwriters would give a limb or 2 to have composed that melody.

Here's a completely alt version of the song, fun performance of the still lovely melody:

How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?

McJoan @ DKos on tax cuts for the über-wealthy:

They'll argue that it's about protecting seniors and middle-class people who have significant investments, but they'll lie. It's about making the rich richer and driving up the deficits to make the case for killing Social Security and Medicare.

Read it all, makes perfect sense. These guys (The Professional Right) are not just out to steal your $$, but to game the system forever in their favor.

Bastards.

Girls just wanna have fun

I'm lucky to have had special unique relationships with all my siblings. One thing they all had in common was nicknames.

Kristin's full name was Kristin Carol Anderson. But for reasons only known to my twisted synapses, I came to call her Kristin Carrot, and often just Carrot for short. Luckily she embraced it.

When she bought her condo, she decorated with carrot motif items, some of which I have now. All the more to better remember her. As if I'd ever forget.

Today, Sunday, Sep. 19, Kristin would have been 51. I'd give just about anything to celebrate the day with her. In my heart, I will.

Happy Birthday, Kristin Carrot!

Kristin went with me to see Cyndi Lauper in concert in '91 (Pam was out of town), and we went backstage and met Cyndi through Catherine Russell, who was singing backup on the tour.

So for Kristin, here's Cyndi:

Addendum by The Sailor: Steve? Your true colors are shining thru

I never wanted 2 be your weekend lover I only wanted 2 be some kind of friend

Music for the rages

Purple Rain - Prince
Willow Weep For Me - Chad & Jeremy
Put A Little Love In Your Heart - Lennox & Green
For Your Love - The Yardbirds
I Can't Make You Love Me - Bonnie Raitt
You And I - Earth Wind & Fire
Space Child - Spirit
I Ain't Missing You - The Babys
As Tears Go By - Rolling Stones
Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

Just because you love someone with all your heart doesn't mean they have to love you back.

Fire, I'll take you to burn

Some one once said "Judge not . . ." Well, screw that. I'm going to judge nutbag phony pastor 'Dr.' Terry Jones by saying he isn't a Christian.

How can I know this? How can I know what's in a person's heart? And aren't modern evangelicals saved by 'grace' alone, leaving them fully able to be assholes & jerks?

Simple: no one who has truly embraced the message of Jesus can act this awfully. This self-aggrandizing prick with his phony doctorate and eBay store is no more a Christian than Jim (no relation) Jones was. Self-important charlatans leading the delusional. At least in this instance (so far) no one has died.

So 'Dr' Jones? Go to Hell. Fuck off and die.

And for the traditional media that sucked up all his droolings like water from Lourdes and sprayed it across our teevee screens? You're not much better.

Jason Linkins at Huffpost puts the whole sad mess in perspective:

The story of how one lone idiot, pimping an 18th-century brand of community terrorism, held the media hostage and forced some of this nation's most powerful people to their knees to fitfully beg an end to his wackdoodlery is an extraordinary one. It's a modern media retelling of Faulkner's "As I Lay Dying", in which a gang of Islamaphobes, cast in the role of Addie Bundren, bamboozle the media into carrying their coffin full of malevolence on a journey of pure debasement. Let's begin at the beginning.

In-freakin-deed.

Saturday Sailboat Blogging

The above pic is from a relatively calm moment today. Winds were 8 Kts, gusting to 25!

Summertime, And the livin' is easy/There Ain't No Cure For The Summertime Blues

I apologize to my blog colleagues and our readers that I haven't posted lately. Sometimes life just gets in the way. I think this is a good way to get back into my groove.

Stray Cat Strut

CEOs are often not necessary. They can be like interior decorators: they make changes and crave praise for no tangible reason. Anyone who has spent much time in business understands that.

At their best, they're idea people who also make great spokespersons: think Steve Jobs. At their worst, they're either preening hulks who are attention whores (Donald Trump) or they're just annoying idiots who get in the way of actual progress. These last types are about as welcome in the workplace as that one-eyed one-eared stray cat you chase from your yard every night.

CEOs also have something in common: they mark their territory. Do you really want the smell of CEO urine stinking up the place?

So California, do you really want a failed-upward right wing tool like this representing your interests in Washington? She'll probably outsource police and firefighters to India:

Listen, People...