Watching a bewildering world from the middle of nowhere
I can’t rave enough about the local sweet potatoes. They’re cheap, they’re good, and they’re fine winter fare, “Rare ballast for an empty belly,” as Sam Gamgee said. They’re so flavorful that I don’t even bother to season them, not even salt. They’re highly compatible, though, with toasted sesame oil, a compatibility the exploitation of which I must explore.
I’ve got to try growing me some this year.
When I first tasted my homemade sauerkraut, which was put up in October, there were two problems. The first was that the sauerkraut wasn’t quite sour enough. The second was that it was too tender and lacked crunch.
Now that the sauerkraut has fermented longer and I’ve worked down into the crock, away from sauerkraut at the top of the crock, I am happy to report that these problems are gone. The sourness is just right, and the crunch is just right. I’m guessing that the the sauerkraut at the very top, which is more exposed to the air and to other biological and chemical processes, is not like the rest of the sauerkraut. Many people who make homemade sauerkraut have scum, or even mold, at the top of the crock. I had none of those problems. My sauerkraut is nice and clean. But I’m guessing that it’s the same principle — the sauerkraut at the top of the crock doesn’t really count.
I don’t hesitate to declare that this is the best sauerkraut I’ve ever tasted.
Amazon.com
Amazon did indeed make the announcement today about the new Kindle. Unfortunately, they did not cut the price.
I believe that, once electronic readers reach critical mass, we’ll have a whole new era of easy self-publishing and open-source literature.
This spooky chart from the Bureau of Labor Statistics makes it pretty clear that this recession is far worse than anything we’ve seen in a long time. Job loss is in free fall, dramatically worse than the 1990 and 2001 recessions.
It’s not to late to plan your victory garden.
The empty breaker panel, waiting for wires and breakers
Work on the inside of the house has started, though the kind of work that’s happening now doesn’t make great photos. The electrician has started. The plumber and the heating and air conditioning people should start any day. The next stage is all about putting pipes and wires and ducts inside walls.
One of several fixtures for a recessed light
A light switch almost ready to be tested
The attic fan, waiting to be installed. When I picked this up at Lowe’s, the salesman said, “We don’t sell many of those. Most people don’t use them anymore.” That’s a pity, because attic fans can make a house completely comfortable when it’s only moderately hot, using far less energy than the air conditioning. I don’t think I’ll need to resort to air conditioning until the temperature is above 85 degrees, or if the humidity is unbearable. I love good ventilation. Stale, dead air drives me crazy. It’s also good for the house to keep the attic as cool as possible.
An older Kindle 1.0 (Amazon.com)
Rumors of an updated model of the Kindle, which everyone has been calling Kindle 2.0, have been kicking around for months. Amazon ran out of Kindles before the holidays.
Now a blogger at the Los Angeles Times is reporting that Amazon has scheduled a press event in New York for Feb. 9 that everyone assumes will be the rollout for Kindle 2.0. I’m hoping that Amazon also will reduce the price.
The neat thing about the Kindle is that it automatically downloads new content using the EVDO cellular network, and Amazon pays the bill for the EVDO. The Kindle comes with a basic Web browser, so that means it can be used to browse the Internet, or check your email, while out and about, with Amazon paying the network costs. Since I’m in the market for a way to check email while out and about, that makes the Kindle very tempting. Back in San Francisco I had a Blackberry, and yes, I miss it. I can’t justify the expense of a Blackberry here in the woods. My EVDO and cell phone bills are already high enough. But I’m hoping the Kindle would serve as a poor person’s Blackberry. You’d have to buy the Kindle, of course, but there’d be no monthly bill for Internet service.
Sean Jackson: Superman visits Trinity Church Wall Street (Youtube)
Don’t worry … this is not going to turn into an organ blog. It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about organ installations because I’m in the middle of making tricky decisions about where the wiring and speakers will go for the electronic organ in my new house. In the future, I’ll post details about my plans for a digitally sampled organ, as well as an analog organ console, in my house. I fully intend to have big-organ sound in the house like that in the Sean Jackson video above.
The interesting thing about the organ in the Sean Jackson video above is that this is not a wind instrument. It’s a new electronic organ built by Marshall & Ogletree, pushing digitally sampled electronic organs to a new level. The organ at Trinity Church on Wall Street was ruined by ash and smoke when the World Trade Center was destroyed on September 11, 2001, and the organ was replaced, at least temporarily, by the Marshall & Ogletree organ.
A nice thing about the people at Trinity Church is that they’re not persnickety about what kind of music is played on their organ. Though the Mighty Wurlitzer has its place, these church-type instruments are extremely well suited to grand motion pictures music. The more this kind of music is played on the big classical (as opposed to theater) organs, the more people will regain an interest in listening to the organ.
Below: a very good church organist in New Jersey:
When You Wish Upon a Star — played with impeccable taste (Youtube)
Theme from Masterpiece Theater (Youtube)
Ron Reseigh (who is not an amateur) at the Berkeley Wurlitzer
I’ve been thinking all day about amateur musicians and things people (and communities) can do to encourage amateur musicianship.
When I was in San Francisco, for a while I was member of the Northern California Theater Organ Society, which owns and maintains the large Wurlitzer organ at the Berkeley Community Theater. Once a month, on a Sunday, the society has an “open console” during the afternoon, and anyone who would like to play the organ can play it. Here’s a Youtube link of Ron Reseigh playing “Alone Again (Naturally)” on the Berkeley Wurlitzer.
I have played this organ. It’s quite an instrument, and not surprisingly it’s the biggest organ I’ve ever played. Most communities are notorious for being stingy with organs. Even though an entire church bought and maintains an organ, the organist usually keeps the key and won’t let anyone touch it. I even remember a newspaper story from the 1970s about a “phantom organist” who would break into churches at night to play the organ. The Mighty Wurlitzer is no snob. It will respond equally and faithfully to whoever touches the keys.
I totally understand the phantom organist. And I also want to chide those who sometimes refer mockingly to “the People’s Republic of Berkeley.” Where else do the common people — amateurs — get to touch the King of Instruments?
And since I’m sitting here in the woods missing the Berkeley Wurlitzer, here’s Mark Herman (also not an amateur) playing it.
Just now on Facebook, there is a thing going around in which people are supposed to write 25 random things about themselves. An old friend of mine did this, and one of the random things about him is that he used to play an instrument, but because of an abusive band director and snobbish bandmates, he stopped. He says he still has the urge to throw a French horn out a high window and watch it smash. Thus for as long as I have known him, I have never had the pleasure of hearing him play.
Over the past six or eight decades, something has changed in our collective musical culture, and something of great value has been lost. It used to be that people were encouraged to play, and to practice, as amateur musicians. Now we scorn them and humiliate them. How many people have stopped playing an instrument altogether once they realize (or are cruelly told) that they’ll never be a professional?
It used to be that the prettiest face anyone ever saw was the prettiest face in their little village. Now, thanks to the media, every face must be compared with world-class beauty. Recording technology is a great gift and a terrible humiliation at the same time: We can hear the best music that the world has to offer, but it’s that impossible standard by which amateurs are judged.
The word “amateur” itself has taken on a certain cruel connotation. It comes to us from French and Latin, of course, and it just means that someone loves something. But now the word means dabbler, or inferior. It’s an insult.
Thank goodness we don’t belittle people who cook at home, or insult them by referring to them as amateurs. The culture of home cooking actually is healthy. We encourage it. We are eager to sample what other people have made. We exchange techniques and recipes. Thanks to the New Frugality maybe we’ll even have a renaissance of cooking at home.
I’m afraid that if homemade music ever has a renaissance, it will begin with defiance. We amateur musicians must begin by putting our foot down and declare that we will not let anyone’s judgment — including our own — deprive us of the joy of making music.
Lily reposes. Digital effects applied in Gimp photo editor.
I have raised several dogs from puppyhood, and so I have pretty well-developed theories about how to raise puppies. Lily, who is now about nine months old, was about eight weeks old when she came to me. I had to play kitten-raising by ear.
Dogs, of course, need training. Train a cat? Ha! They can learn basic rules fairly well: Don’t scratch, don’t bite, don’t get on the table, don’t scratch the furniture. Lily, I think, has turned out just fine. The guidelines for kitten raising, it seems to me, boil down to: Give them a lot of affection and attention, and always respond to them in a consistent, predictable way that they can understand.
I thought that Lily would never be motivated to come when I call. But these past few evenings, she has been doing that. She knows that one of the unbreakable rules is that she can’t go out until the sun is up, and she must be in before dark. She likes to stay out all day when the sun is shining and it’s not too cold. An hour before sunset, she’s probably sleepy and hungry. So when I go out and call her, I soon hear a meowing in response, far off in the woods. And before I know it, she’s at the door.
I’m pretty sure she’s aware that the woods are dangerous after dark if you’re a kitty cat.