Land on Demand Editing Proofreading Indexing: Hmm. Not the First Conclusion I'd Have Come To

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My name is Bob Land. I am a full-time freelance editor and proofreader, and occasional indexer. This blog is my website.

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Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Hmm. Not the First Conclusion I'd Have Come To

“

Significantly, the fish also symbolized Gehry’s conflicted sense of Jewishness. Gehry first highlighted the Jewish dimensions of the fish in 1984 when he declared: “When I was a kid I used to go to the market with my grandmother on Thursdays. We’d go to the Jewish market, we’d buy a live carp, we’d take it home to her house in Toronto, we’d put it in the bathtub and I would play with this goddamn fish for a day until the next day she’d kill it and make gefilte fish. I think maybe that has something to with [my interest in fish forms].” At one level, therefore, the fish was a symbol of familial togetherness.

”

9 comments:

Karl said...: Good afternoon Czar,

When I was a kid I went trout fishing with my father. I was fishing upstream of him, out of his line of sight. And I got a bite. It was a tremendous struggle, the biggest fish I had ever caught, yet I fought it and landed it. It was too big for my creel. So I carried it downstream in my arms.

My father took one look at it and said "throw that damn thing away, it's just a Carp, it's not good for anything".

I was offline most of the weekend. I enjoyed your haiku.; May 31, 2011 at 6:15 PM
czar said...: Karl:

Thanks for stopping by. I enjoyed your unofficial haiku.

The TVA lake we live near is full of carp. They are huge and butt ugly. Years back, some of the younger actors at the theatre where my wife works were out there with us. One of them took to reaching down into the water and attempting to punch the damn beasts. Alcohol may have been a factor.; May 31, 2011 at 9:31 PM
moi said...: Aw, gee. Poor carp.

But I'll be ding danged if I can see the fish form in Gehry's work.; June 1, 2011 at 2:59 PM
czar said...: Moi: Not on the ones I sent you earlier, but I'll send another.; June 1, 2011 at 3:14 PM
moi said...: Got 'em. Now I really REALLY know that I hate this dude's work. Give me Meier, Niemeyer, the Saarinens any day.; June 2, 2011 at 11:01 AM
Sharon Rudd said...: This comment has been removed by the author.; June 13, 2011 at 10:33 PM
Sharon Rudd said...: Not that I know much about fish, but I can see a likeness to twisted, floppy fish forms in some of Frank Gehry's work.

And thanks, Czar, for prompting me to come up with my first haiku (minus the Unabomber part). In the comments over at Moi's.; June 13, 2011 at 10:37 PM
czar said...: IE:

Good to see you here, and there. Hopefully now that we've opened the gates, we can see more of that Intuitive mind.; June 14, 2011 at 4:17 AM
moi said...: Haiku Winner is UP!; June 14, 2011 at 2:44 PM

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Note: Different rates may apply for self-publishing or overseas authors.

Copyediting—Take the word count of your manuscript and divide it by 265. That's a billable page. Remember to include footnotes/endnotes in the word count.

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Brushes with Fame

1. An old friend had to remind me of this one, because he remembers more about my life than I do. When I was a youngster, I threw up on Johnny Carson in an NYC theatre. Would have been in the early 1960s. I have no recollection of the event, but from what my mother said, he apparently handled it well.
2. The family went down to Plains, GA, maybe around 2004 to sit in on Jimmy Carter's Sunday school class. Afterward people could line up for a photo op with the president and Mrs. Carter. As we were in line, Tere (my wife) said, "I'm going to give him a kiss." I responded, "Wonderful. I'll catch up with you after Secret Service breaks your kneecaps." As we stepped up to pose with the Carters, my darling wife, never a wallflower, leans over and pecks him on the cheek. He just smiled and said, "Right on!"
3. Backstage with Stanley Clarke, after Return to Forever performance, Atlanta, 8/2/2008. See photo below.
4. Internationally acclaimed artist Thornton Dial was bribed fifty dollars to let our family give him a ride home; Birmingham to Bessemer, AL. Dial is justifiably suspicious of white folks he doesn't know; actually, I might have to say that's one thing we have in common. I'm always happy when going to a party to see a good dog to engage in proper conversation.
5. Gave a very drunk John Fahey a ride to an Atlanta airport hotel after a depressing performance, during which he became progressively more wasted on stage and basically just babbled more than playing guitar. Among his comments were that his father-in-law offered to give Fahey some money if his wife (the guy's daughter) would lose some weight. The sight of seeing the slump-shouldered Fahey shuffling into the hotel carrying his guitars haunts me still.
6. Lunch with Jane Fonda at Bulloch House, Warm Springs, GA, the morning after she filed for divorce from Massa Ted. The first time I saw her was when she stepped out of the back of the car she was sleeping in at the home of a folk artist we were both going to see: the Prophet Jesse Marshall. (She had apparently been up all night.) Bulloch House is a southern-style buffet, which La Jane took to right away. No healthy eating there. She was quite angered when they removed her plate from the table while she had stepped away before she had a chance to finish what she'd put on there to begin with. After spending some time with our two boys, she offered to adopt them if ever anything happened to my wife and me.
7. Garrison Keillor rode in my car; spoke with him later at apres-performance dessert party, Abingdon, VA. Keillor was invited (paid) to give a fundraising performance at Barter Theatre, the state theatre of Virginia, where my wife works. They needed a big vehicle to pick up Keillor, so they borrowed my Chevy Tahoe. Quite tall Keillor apparently sat in the way back and spoke on the cell phone the entire time (I was not invited to be in the car to pick him up). For a while we could say that our car had his DNA in it, but then we traded it in on a Prius, which gets 48 miles a gallon -- a whole lot better value than having a car where Garrison Keillor once sat. He was very nice after his performance, though -- apparently totally against type. I told him that A Prairie Home Companion used to save my Saturday nights in the early '80s when I was working at the printing plant.
8. Physically bumped into Jack Nicholson upstairs at Sardi's -- the famous Broadway theatre district bar -- 1977; the occasion was an "audition" (that is, a fundraiser) for a play that some folks were trying to get produced. The playwright and composer and two of the leads they had cast were there performing all the songs. Maybe 20 people were there, sitting in folding chairs gathered around the piano. One of the songs was a little ditty called "Tomorrow." The play ended up being Annie. Why, as a 17-year-old, I was invited to this gig is far less interesting, but one of the oddities of my life.
9. A very slight brush. Back around 1978 when I was in college, some friends and I traveled from Atlanta to Huntsville, AL, because, before transferring to school in Atlanta, one of my friends had been instrumental in arranging for Hunter S. Thompson to give a talk at the University of Alabama at Huntsville campus. Because of my friend’s remaining connections at the UAH campus, we knew when Thompson’s plane would be arriving, so we prepared ourselves properly to meet him at the airport—kind of the unofficial welcoming party. So we are positioned in the concourse and see Dr. Thompson’s unique stride coming toward us (along with the official welcoming party of two or three students). There are three or four of us unofficial types—longhaired, eyes glazed, and mostly in awe. My friend says in his most cultured tone, “Ah, Dr. Thompson,” at which point we begin genteel applause, as if we are at a ladies’ tea party or piano recital. Thompson takes one frightened look at us and darts into the airport bar. We follow, and take up our spots at the table next to him and his minders, trying to glean what we can from the conversation, which is virtually impossible, because even at his best, Thompson speech is mostly incomprehensible. After about 15 or 20 minutes, Thompson gets up to leave, stops by our table, and says, “Sorry. I thought you were some of Wallace’s boys,” referring to former governor, presidential candidate, and opportunistic segregationist George Wallace. Looking at us, you would have hardly associated us with Wallace supporters, but we were happy for the moment of attention and humor from the good doctor. When we saw him the next day giving his talk for the students, I’m not sure I understood one of every 10 words he said, but as a brush with fame goes, the trip was well worth it.
10. Added starter: Once when I was ushering at the Fox Theatre in Atlanta (early 1980s), I heard the Grateful Dead perform "Let It Be" for their sound check. Deadheads who've listened to thousands of hours of bootleg tapes assure me that the band never played that song. Well, maybe not during a concert, but I know what I saw and heard, performed for about 30 ushers and the guys at the sound board, who seemed to be more occupied with the lines of coke in front of them. Jerry Garcia and Donna Godchaux singing, if you're keeping score at home.