Snow nostalgia

Big Frank has been thinking about snow lately. On the drive back from Dickinson to Spokane Big Frank actually went through blizzard conditions in the mountains between Helena and Missoula. It prompted memories of his youth.

Has global warming really affected the amount of snow, the intensity of cold, and the future memories of children? The pictures on the right reflect the memories that I have on snow as a child. Obviously Big Frank does not remember the blizzard of 09 in New York. But he does remember the blizzard of 66 in North Dakota. It buried telephone poles - and entire trains. The snow piles in the streets of Dickinson were monstrously high. Big Frank has similar memories of sledding over piles of snow, and constantly putting on "overshoes" - a word that is a mystery to kids today.

Is the fact that kids today never wear coats, go to school in the winter in shorts, and don't even own a pair of gloves mean anything other than fashion statements and personal preferences? When Big Frank was a kid coats were worn - with hats! There was no stigma attached to a well clothed teenager - is this because it was so much colder then? Big Frank doesn't think so. Look at the following 121 year history of snowfall in Minneapolis http://climate.umn.edu/text/historical/mspsnow.txt . There is no precipitous drop in snow as of recent years. What does this mean? Are we prisoners of our youth - were the snow drifts so large because we were so small, or what? Big Frank doesn't know.

Shadow Secret Truth

Big Frank Dickinson was struck this morning by three words: secret, truth and shadow. He threw them into the air like juggling balls and as they rose they took different configurations – almost like poetry in their different alignments:

The shadow secret of truth;
Truth’s secret shadow;
The secret shadow of truth;
The secret truth of the shadow.

Much as a painter working his palette with a limited set of colors – working the mind with a limited set of words provokes thoughts:

The shadow secret of truth: every truth has its shadow and in that darkness there lies an opposite truth. As Niels Bohr wrote: “The opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth.” You see this most glaringly in the clichés that we trot out from time to time; e.g. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” – but “Out of sight, out of mind”. So which is it: no need to decide they are both truth. Consistency is indeed the hobgoblin of small minds.

How about the truth of secret shadows? Well some hide things and others reveal. You might not see what stands in the shadow, however at other times a person’s shadow reveals his presence – literally. Similarly psychologically the shadow, the instinctive and irrational side – only a shadow in relation to the rational “light” of the mind – can reveal the truth about oneself – or of other’s.

Well, let’s turn it around another way: the shadow truth of secrets –
We are surrounded by secrets. What we truly know of ourselves, or others and of the world in which we sit is very very little. The secrets – like the unknowable dark matter of the universe comprises the greatest mass – and the shadow of these secrets? Well these are the truly unrecognized powers that be. Robert Frost wrote “We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows.” Very profound, but the shadow of that secret is the true knower!

Shadow that secret to the truth of the secret shadow in truth . . . Big Frank has dropped the balls for today. Anyone care to pick them up?

Big Frank returns to Dickinson

From Bozeman a few thought by Big Frank on returning to the Queen City of the Prairie. Many may be thinking that this surely is a preamble leading into a nostalgic reverie on the distant Dickinsonian past. Think again - Big Frank is not that kind of guy. He does not seek solace in a flowery version of the past. As the saying goes: "what was was" and it goes without saying that what is - is. Yeah, baby - what it is! Ok - enough tom-foolery.

Topic on Big Frank's mind as he returns to the cradle of his youth - smiles! That's right the ol baring of the pearly whites. Big Frank wonders why is it that when a person's likeness is captured via camera - that there is a perceived obligation to smile. This is a new phenomena - when photos first appeared on the scene - nobody smiled! Take a look at Lincoln, for example. Is there one picture of a smiling Lincoln? Not one. What about Grant? Not one. Ok, how about Woodrow Wilson - show me one. And, for the record Teddy Roosevelt does not count - he, for reasons that nobody has really ever accounted for had his face in a permanent smile. I think it goes back to the winter of 1889 when he was rounding up strays in the North Dakota badlands - he rode out smiling - as usual - and got caught in a snow storm - the smile stuck and the the rest is history - so Teddy is an aberation. Also look at the pictures of the Native Americans -were they smiling? Show me one picture of a smiling Native American and I'll show you traitor. It is culturally unique to the pleasing cultures of the world - the hypocrites and pollyannas. However - having said that, what about the Buddha smile? That one throws me for a loop. Let's say that the Buddha smile doesn't count, because it's not for the camera. So when did the smile take hold. I think that is a question for our good readers. When did the smile become obligatory? I await your comments.

Mark your calendars - tomorrow Big Frank Dickinson enters Dickinson. Will there be a welcoming parade? Will he be given the key to the city? Will anybody notice? Does anybody care?

Random observations

People in cars look better that they do in their living rooms. This is because they are moving and you can only see their heads, which are obscured by distance and tinting so that your imagination, ever hopeful and flattering, veers to the attractive.

Why do so many people believe in “soul mates”? Think about it: if indeed there were only one person alive in the world (theoretically) that is your perfect soul mate what are the odds that you could ever meet this person. There are about 6 billion people on earth. So what are the odds? They are much worse than meeting a serial killer – there are more than one out of 6 billion; yet how many of us stay awake at night worrying about meeting that person. You can go online -(I won't give you the website, because it's spam generatoing) and this “soulmatecalculator” will textmessage you the name of your soulmate. They even have some kind of bogus mathematical justification: Gender Preference Probability xEthnicity Probability xMarital Status Probability xReligion Probability xProbability of Trait 1 xProbability of Trait 2, etc… Big Frank Dickinson's soul mate is named Alexandra (he kids you not) - this is particularly distrubing in view of the Leonard Cohen song below "Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving/ Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost." - what is that? .

Physicists claim that if we can remember the past then there is no good reason why we can’t see the future as well. I don’t get this, but am uncertain whether I would want to see into the future – it’s like knowing what the score at the end of the game is. We all know how upset we get when someone tells us that before the game is over. Most people wouldn’t watch that game. Well, think how upset we’d all be if we knew what our life score was before it was over – would you then not want to watch THAT game?

Carlos Castaneda in The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge claims that Don Juan the Yaqui medicine man told him that if he could visualize his hand in his dream that he could then control the dream completely. Big Frank has been trying to do this for years – no luck at all. Maybe he should try looking at his foot, or elbow.

Alexandra Leaving

Leonard Cohen has a gorgeous song called "Alexandra Leaving". Here are the lyrics:

"Suddenly the night has grown colder,
The god of love preparing to depart.
Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder,
They slip between the sentries of the heart.
Upheld by the simplicities of pleasure,
They gain the light, they formlessly entwine;
And radiant beyond your widest measure
They fall among the voices and the wine.
It's not a trick, your senses all deceiving,
A fitful dream, the morning will exhaust.
Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.
Then say goodby to Alexandra lost.
Even though she sleeps upon your satin;
Even though she wakes you with a kiss.
Do not say the moment was imagined;
Do not stoop to strategies like this.
As someone long prepared for this to happen,
Go firmly to the window. Drink it in.
Equisite music. Alexandra laughing.
Your firm commitments tangible again.
And you who had the honor of her evening,
And by the honor had your own restored.
Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving;
Alexanda leaving with her lord.
Even though she sleeps upon your satin;
Even though she wakes you with a kiss.
Do not say the moment was imagined;
Do not stoop to strategies like this.
As someone long prepared for the occasion;
In full command of every plan you wrecked;
Do not choose a coward's explanation
that hides behind the cuase and the effect.
And you who were bewildered by the meaning;
Whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed.
Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.
Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.
Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.
Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost."

This song is based on a poem by Constantine P. Cavafy entitled: "The god abandons Antony".

"When suddently, at midnight, you hear
an invisible procession going by
with exquisite music, voices,
don't mourn you luck that's failing now,
work gone wrong, your plans
all proving deceptive--don't mourn them uselessly.
As one long prepared, and graced with courage,
say goodbye to her, the Alexandria that is leaving.
Above all, don't fool yourself, don't say
it was a dream, your ears deceived you;
don't degrade yourself with empty hopes like these.
As one long prepared and graced with courage,
as is right for you who were given this kind of city,
go firmly to the window
and listen with deep emotion, but not
with the whining, the pleas of a coward;
listen--your final delectation--to the voices,
to the exquisite music of that strange procession,
and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing."

(1911) (Translated by Edmonund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)

Note that in the original Cavafy poem it is about a city lost - Alexandria; in the Cohen song it is a woman - Alexandra. Cavafy's poem is about Marc Anthony (based on Plutarch's story). The night before Octavian took the city, Marc Anthony heard a silent troup leaving the city - then he passed out (it is the god Bacchus that deserts Anthony). The poem is about courage in the face of loss (of a city, of a woman, . . . of life). It calls on nobilty in the face of inevitable loss.

Lyrical Maxims

Big Frank has been pretty busy lately so he has to apologize for the lateness in getting this next promised posting up. First of all I would like to thank the three people who visited the site over the past week or so. Unfortunately we have no additions of other lyrical maxims so that’s that for the time being.

On to the next deal: maxims that could be turned into songs. Big Frank suggests that we look at a couple of rich sources in order to show what could be done. These two sources, not coincidentally, carry the name of Frank! Frank Zappa and Frank La Rochefoucauld (well, OK, technically it is François for the latter, but in these informal times Frank will do).

Keep in mind that the idea is to pick a maxim or proverb that could conceivably carry an entire song. In other words the maxim has to have bulk. It has to allow for wandering thoughts and feelings to accompany the meandering music that goes into this song. The emotions and thoughts of the listener have to have a large scaffolding to climb around on. “Early to bed and early rise . . .” is just not going to do it. No matter how rich the melody and how intricate the leads the listener is going to be handicapped by the limited scope of that maxim.

This blog is verbal, not musical, so after listing the maxim Big Frank can’t fill in the tune – well, at least not yet (stay tuned)- so he will have to meander verbally to give some indication of what could be done with such lyrical maxims.

Example #1: “Without deviation from the norm progress is not possible”. – Frank Zappa.
This ones shakes things up in a very subtle way. The norm – is the so-called foundation of sanity and civilization. We say of those outcasts and freaks – they are ABNORMAL – in the same way that we castigate the weirdoes and criminals. That is to say that normal is the bounds of acceptable and those that wander outside that fence have passed beyond the bounds of acceptability. However – and this is a very large HOWEVER, it is the abnormal that leads to progress both individually and collectively. Jesus was abnormal, Edison too, Bill Gates, Franklin, Ford and Gutenberg – all abnormal. Democracy is not normal (within history or the family), capitalism – not the norm, and loving your enemies – give me a break!

Example #2: “The head is forever fooled by the heart.” - François La Rochefoucauld.
In typical La Rochefoucauld fashion we have a paradoxical truth thrust at us. Paradoxical because these days we are constantly being told by new agers and their ilk about how the mind has misled us – how it is the secret driver that calls all the shots and that we need to “get in touch” with our feelings in order to take the controls away from the untrustworthy driver – “the head”. Well it just ain’t so. The heart is the five thousand pound behemoth that is being ridden by that small head. The head has no control whatsoever over the behemoth of a heart and yet it has no end of confabulation of rationales that pretend to explain what the heart is up to and that it is really all part of the head’s plan.

Observation: songs are becoming maxims. Well, maybe not the whole song, but there appears to be a movement in the lyrics to maxims. You know “A usually pithy and familiar statement expressing an observation or principle generally accepted as wise or true.” Also know as adage, aphorism, byword, motto, proverb, saw, saying. This is a move away from the typical narrative form that lyrics typically take – you know, tell a story. Here with the maxim there is no story – well at least the story is not in the song – it’s more likely in the listener's head.

This is what I mean: here are a series of them off of T Bone Burnett’s True False Identity album.

“Machines always do what you tell them to, as long as you do what they say.”

“When you’re out for revenge dig two graves;
When you run from truth it comes in waves.”

“Honesty is the most subversive of all disguises.”

“What’s last is first what’s first is last”

Next from Leo Kottke and Mike Gordon’s 66 Steps:

“Under water from over the dam we stand”.

This one is particularly good in that it captures an old maxim “That’s water over the dam.” In other words: that’s all in the past; let it go; let bygones be bygone; don’t cry over split milk”. Except here you are standing in it completely underwater. In fact it has overwhelmed you. Yet, you stand firm there, under water. In other words: you’ve had it, but don’t fret about it. Kind of like life, not?

Finally a couple from Jeff Beck. He puts these into his songs almost as a musical riffs. Here are a couple from Who Else:

“What Mama said.”

“Space for the Papa.”

And while some might say these are not maxims; Big Frank knows that they are. “What Mama said” is the invocation of the law. What SHE said goes. And “Space for the Papa” a lament that every father knows well – almost a blues lick, but a maxim just the same with the simple meaning “Dad too needs his space”! The great thing about Jeff Beck is that these maxims are pretty much the only lyrics you will find on this entire album. Look at how he’s balanced that out! The symmetry and the ramifications are tremendous.

OK, Big Frank invites all of you out there in Bloggerland to send in via your comments more examples of these maxims that are permeating our musical scene today. I will tally and then post when they have all been submitted. Stay tuned for the following blog that will postulate a few possibilities for tunes from the great writers of maxims who predated rock and so never had a chance – until now.

This is what it is.

Blog –
Given that this is post numero uno – it might be appropriate to give some reasons why it is that I, Big Frank Dickinson, feel it necessary to add yet another Blog to the hundreds of thousands – probably millions – of already existing Blogs out there. Many may say - former mayor, OK; part-time jewel thief, OK; but writer - give me a break. Well, you get no break because, well because Big Frank's view of things is important for the world to know. There is, as of yet, no Blog, no writings whatsoever, that stem from the pen of Big Frank. This will correct that deficiency.

So the voice of Big Frank emerges at last. What does he have to say? His interests are varied and the message is one of cheer. There will be no doom and gloom on this Blog. There are important issues that we all need to pay attention to: cars, sex, food, houses, music, television, books, movies, bodies, health, insurance, jobs, children, religion, death, candy, and so many many more. Those are exactly the issues that Big Frank will address. The taxonomy will grow, but no little issues will darken this page – if it appears it is big as befitting Big Frank.

Big Frank also likes to refer to himself in the third person. Get used to it. He welcomes comments on his views and has no ego invested in his views. They might be his views, but so what. As a great writer once said: “One opinion is as good as another, if not better.”