( I dashed this one off in about 10 minutes after a conversation at work about blogging)
this one goes out to my friends at work, who wanted to know what blogging was...
I was contemplating the passing of two famous names, and how it all fits into the big scheme we call life.
You can't judge a book by looking at it's cover and you can't judge Bo Diddley by his persona that most younger people might recognize him by. Whether as the pool shark that George Thorogood takes to school in the video for "Bad to the Bone" or his turn as a pawn shop owner in the movie "Trading Places" who tells Dan Ackroyd that in Philadelphia his watch is is only worth $50, Diddley was miles away from the legend that made him.
I mean, how much of a total bad ass do you have to be to have no less than 4 songs with your own name in the title? And not have anyone think it's a bit self serving. The Diddley Daddy was a giant, let's get that clear now. He wrote songs that have been covered by countless number of acts through the years, and will probably stand the test of time. The simplicity of the basic melody of most of them, and the heartfelt blues they emoted are heads and shoulders above anything that you can hear from so called "muscians" today.
I didn't really have a huge appeciation of his work til more recently, in comparison to other legends of the blues whose work I got into at a younger age, but I can be sure that he is just as important to 20th century American music as anyone.
Jim McKay gave a lot of us of a certain age our first exposure to the magic of far away places on Wide World of Sports. You looked forward to Saturday afternoon to see what new sport you might be treated to. He provided us with the background on the people and places that he took us to, highlighting as he put it "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat". The sheer majesty of the Hahnekam from Kitzbuhl, the cliff diving from Acapulco, Evel Knievel, Harlem Globetrotters from the four corners of the globe, the Monaco Grand Prix, McKay showed all of us who watched what it was like in places that were as far removed from our dreary small town existence as the Earth is from the Moon. He had a newspapermans' ear for the story behind the story and told it to us in a way that seemed articulate without being too over our heads.
Closer to home, I finally got relief from the heat as they came to put my air conditioning unit in the window today. I only just survived, but I expect I have earned some karmic points with the greater powers that be for my ability to adapt with good grace. I did not whine, or complain, even when I couldn't sleep for the rivers of sweat that pooled around me. In fact I didn't even notice how hot I was while I prepared my first lasagna yesterday, made in the microwave. Yes, it can be done, although I hesistate to say the experiment was a bit like the operation that is a complete success, yet the patient died. It was worth the experience, as I know how to correct the minimal mistakes I made should I feel like I want to do it again. I think I'll just stick the oven though...
res ipsa loquitar
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