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Loose Links (Tuesday)

¶ Whatever you do, don't click this link at the office without turning the audio way down. As Michael Manske at The Glory of Carniola writes, the clip is hypnotic. Amusing? How about endless, literally. This video accompaniment, made by Joel Veitch at rathergood.com, to a techno number by the Slovenian group Laibach, is set to loop, so don't wait for "Tanz mit Laibach" to come to an end.

¶ Also via the Music category at TGoC: David Byrne goes to the Metropolitan Opera, and writes about his impressions of Debussy's Pélléas et Mélisande in the sort-of blog that he runs. There are no comments, and no permalinks, so you'll have to scroll down to the entry for 30 January. It's worth it: an intensely musical man confronts intensely different music.

¶ As an aid to my slightly faulty balance (mostly the consequence of an inability to look round when I walk), I carry a very nice ebony walking stick, picked up over a year ago at a snazzy shop on the Boulevard St Germain in Paris. I am always slightly amazed that I'm allowed to carry this thing onto an airliner; I could easily put someone in the hospital with it. But wait - perhaps there's a technique to master!

¶ Pop Quiz

a) When did you stop imagining a difference between yourself and "the grownups"?

b) What is your favorite city, and, if you don't already live there, what do you like about where you are?

c) Would you be happier if your way of life did not require a car, or do you like to drive - and perhaps even enjoy the time alone?

d) What famous living person would you like to have a conversation with, and, assuming that whoever it was shared your interests, what would you want to talk about? This is a very imaginary question, in that most real conversations arte riddled with small talk and hesitation; they also wander in unpredictable ways. So don't try to answer realistically.

¶¶ My answers:

a) Between the ages of thirty-five and forty.

b) Amsterdam. I always say that I'd give anything to live in Paris, but that's an old habit; Amsterdam is much more congenial. And Paris is not far away. What I like about Manhattan is the palpability of great privacy even on the densely-peopled streets. I certainly wish that the city were better-looking. (i.e., Parisian)

c) Because I live in Manhattan, I'm the rare American whose way of life does not require a car, and I count myself very lucky. I have plenty of time alone as it is, too. The only thing that I miss about long drives is NPR. Listening to NPR at home means never getting anything done; in a car, it was the perfect accompaniment to the task at hand.

d) Sigourney Weaver, about the dreams that her father, Pat Weaver, had for television in its early days, and about how he bore the steady preclusion of those dreams over the decades of his long life. You could say that I want to talk to the (apparently) articulate daughter of a famous person, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to the fear of spontaneously combusting in that glamorous aura. (Even without makeup and lighting, even on a bad hair day, there remain those eyes, that voice.)

Comments

Re the umbrella shop: Wow, amazing! Worthy of Les Parapluies de Cherbourg. (But that may well be self-conscious.)

Extreme digression: did anybody ever see the VHS release of "les parapluies" from the 1980s? Terrible print transfer, vastly inferior to the rerelease. However, at the end of it, there was an utterly bizzarre infomercial for some dance trend/school/other thingy called Dazzle Dancing. I can't find any reference to Dazzle Dancing anywhere, sadly.

Quiz answers:
a) Can't say. I'm in that target range right now; check back with me in five years.
b) Paris, of course. I do like Boston because it's one of the very few American cities with a real sense of place and sufficient density to support a real city feel. Provincial? Yes, a little; but even NYC and Paris can be provincial in that peculiar way that capitals are.

Amsterdam may well be more congenial -- I don't know it very well -- but I do know it can't beat Paris for food.

c) Driving is for the birds. We drive to my parents' house in the near suburbs, and to buy some of our groceries, and that's about it. I'm often stunned by how Americans who didn't grow up in one of the few cities with a real transit system are unable to conceive of moving around, even within the city, without a car. I once stunned my violin teacher (originally from Michigan) by telling him that I'd be walking to his recital instead of driving. (It's a 15-20 minute walk.) And our babysitter had to reconfigure her schedule this week because her husband needs to use the car. (She lives 10 minutes' ride away on the same streetcar line as us.) Every once in a great while, I can find driving pleasurable, but mostly I find it monotonous.

I find an heavily car-dependent life to be almost intolerable personally, and completely undesirable societally. (I've been reading a lot of James Howard Kunstler lately, inflaming my already hot opinions on the matter.)

d) That one requires more reflection. I would be very curious to meet Stalin, as many foreign dignitaries were charmed by him, while his domestic underlings either worshipped him or shat their pants at the mention of his name (or both). But I'm not sure I'd be ready to see that much sinisterness. Definitely not up to meeting Hitler.

Schubert or Brahms, perhaps?

I still haven't seen Parapluies. I'm afraid of the singing. Does it hurt?

I've revised the quiz a touch: I had living persons in mind. Dead persons will be the object of more complicated questions in future quizzes.

John Howard Kunstler is great! I must have another look, soon.

a) Circa age 29. I got married and we bought a house and real furniture.

b) Without question, London. I'd move back there in a heartbeat. It's hard to say what I like most about Chicago (if you asked my husband what he thinks I like best I am confident his response would be that I can get just about anything I need delivered to our door); I think my favorite thing about Chicago is that it is an easy place in which to live--i.e., not so expensive as New York (my second favorite city), a decent mass transit system and plenty of culture. There are actually only two things that I dislike about the city: the winter weather and the brevity of Lyric Opera's season.

c) I hate to drive and I've only done so about half a dozen times in the last four years. Fortunately, living in the city, practically every place I need to get to is within walking distance or accessible via the El. Besides, driving is hazardous to my health and that of any other motorist on the road at the same time: I am one of the worst drivers on the planet.

d) I was going to say either Wagner or Florence Foster Jenkins, until I read that we are to limit our response to live people. In that case, I would really like to have a conversation with Cecelia Bartoli about her amazing vocal technique.

a) 51 - I believe I've finally made it
b) Chicago - I love the feel, I love the culture, I don't mind frigid weather, and I love the lake most of all
c)I love to drive. I would like to live where I can commute during the week and get in my car on the weekends. There's nothing better than NPR while driving. I find driving relaxing and NPR doesn't sound the same at home.
d) Mary Cassatt - oh, she's dead and you changed the rules. Too bad - Mary Cassatt.

Whoops - you did say living. That's what I get for hurrying through this at work. Yes, I'm a work reader, too.

a) At 27 I was married, had a "career" (see rjk for the embarrassing details), made my first mortgage payment - blammo! suddenly, the future! Luckily my first wife made certain that the last bit would be deferred for some years.
b) London - though I couldn't afford it, and would expect to shorten my lifespan considerably, but still.
c) I am alright with driving, having trained for it in the Wide Open Spaces, urban and otherwise, though I don't do much more than go to work and back.
d) Seamus Haney - though there would be less of a conversation, since I would repeatedly ask him to read me his work, which would be quite enough.

a) Never I'm afraid.

b) Paris, it's where I live, it's where I was longing to live until I was 35. Next: Manhattan.

c) I seldom drive and I hate cars. I like to walk, bike, take the train, car is always as a last resort.

d) This one is tough. Maybe Theodore Zeldin and we would talk about... talking, simplicity, how conversations can change things. (I cheat, sorry). Or the french philosopher Pierre Sansot to talk about the city, walking, the benefits of slowness...

I must know, did question d) state, when first posted, that the person should be alive? I could have sworn that I checked first that that was not a stipulation. But, alas, I do tend to skim carelessly sometimes.

So, for a living person, for now I think I'd say Paul Auster. About what exactly? I guess mostly the themes of his books (memory, loss, chance).

That umbrella store always makes me think of the *Parapluies de Cherbourg* when I pass by. And don't be afraid of the singing, Monsieur Keefe. At first it hurts a little, but then it's oddly inspiring. My college roomates and I were singing songs about taking out the trash for weeks after the film.

Max, you didn't overlook anything; you must see the comment that I posted after yours. You're quite right: it didn't stipulate the living. As the I Ching says, "No blame!"

Ma chère Coquette (si j'ose le dire): I can't tell you how madly I lusted after one of the two-patterned umbrellas at Madeleine Gely. So totally inappropriate for a man, to have stripes on the outside and polka dots on the inside, but, my Lord, what a beautiful thing it was! Happily, I was already spending so much on the stick that another purchase was hors de quelconque.

RE: Parapluies.

What isn't painful is the singing. What is painful is that, if you are watching the movie for anything other than the first time, you're crying before the credits. Maybe that's just me. That film wrenches my heart out like few do.

And Catherine Deneuve is so exquisitely beautiful.

As for the POP QUIZ...

a) haven't reached that point yet (then again, i bring down the average age on this blog)

b) this is a toss up. I'd like to live in Paris again. And what if I could combine NYC, New Orleans and Paris? What would I get then?

What do I like about NYC/Brooklyn? For mobility and one of my favorite views (I live on the Q), I love the subway. I love how this place feels like a small town despite the millions of folks in it. I adore the museums.

c) i don't miss driving a bit... but i do miss NPR and bad pop songs on the radio.

d) Joan Didion. "Goodbye to all that" is hitting home now more than ever. I want to talk to someone else who is so very affected by geography. I'd like to talk about being a woman in her twenties takes things too much to heart. I'd like to know there's hope.

Tut, tut, Ms Nola - no ageism, s'il te plaît . La Coquette is younger than you are, yet she didn't call attention to what Hercule Poirot might have called the little grey hairs. You are forgiven, of course.

Oooh, here's a fun fun game you'll like (got it a couple of links off of Carniola):
The 34 Languages of McDonald's
. I had a tougher time than I had expected. There are a couple of giveaways like Arabic, made easy by the absence of Urdu or Farsi, and Hebrew. But without knowing at least one Slavic language very well, you may have trouble distinguishing Bulgarian from Belarusian.

Quiz
a) My sister and I were always mingling with my very social parents' friends so I never had any unease with my elders, and in fact found some of them more interesting than my peers, so for me the lines was blurred. But the true leap to 'adulthood' ocurred when my parents divorced after 3+ decades and I began to support my Mother in all ways....that brought it home that I was now a grownup......
b) NYC. Born right here in Manhattan. I love it. I am totally comfortable here, like Fran Liebowitz think the outdoors is the distance from my doorman's arms to the cab door.....a true City person. Next is London, for the chaos of its layout to the beauty of its parks and its neighborhoods, always thought I could live there easily. I think Paris is breathtakingly beautiful, and always remember what my Grandmother once said when I asked her, someone who made 50+ crossings and travelled everywhere, what the most beautiful city was, thinking she'd say NY. She said "Paris, but I'd rather be in Rome."
3) Sold my car when I moved back to NY 30+ years ago and don't miss it a bit.
4) Bill Clinton or James Levine. I was mesmerized by Clinton the one time I spent time, among others, with him. Levine for his intelligence and of music.

There's no shame in lusting after frippery. Any French man or woman would surely agree :)

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