Where did your musical influences come from? Whether you’re a musician or just a stereo knob turner like me, your musical tastes – if you have some (and that’s not being snotty…some people truly could care less about music) – were formed by certain people or experiences early in your life.
Before going to college and discovering the vast world of classical music, all that performance-art cerebral stuff, jazz, the Talking Heads and Elvis Costello, I spent many hours listening to my oldest sister’s record collection. The first record that I remember being given that wasn’t a Walt Disney “story and songs from the movie” package or an Alvin & the Chipmunks LP, was a 45 RPM single of Scott McKenzie singing “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair).” My two sisters, at the same time, were given a copy of The Monkees’ Headquarters album. It intrigued me. It would be fair to say that I spent more time listening to that Monkees album than my sisters did, and certainly more than I listened to the Scott McKenzie single.
From then on, I always knew there was something different in my sister’s record collection than the “safe” stuff I possessed. I was drawn to it. Many of her records eventually took up residence in my bedroom, but I can picture the album cover of In Search of the Lost Chord and her royal blue shag carpet every time I hear The Moody Blues’ “Legend of a Mind,” or the sloppy photo on the cover of Jesse Colin Young’s Song for Juli whenever I hear “Ridgetop.” I learned these songs from her LP library, and they sent me off in search of others like them. It has always been apparent to me that the songs that most pointedly defined my musical tastes from then on were the ones that I had stolen from Nancy.
And, if you were wondering, the shag carpet in my bedroom was avocado green.
[Written to Alice in Frankfort, Indiana. Return addressed: Richard, Co. G, 2nd Bn., 1st Mar., c/o F.P.O., San Francisco, Calif. Postmarked at U.S. Navy, on 9 Mar 1945 P.M. Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed “RMR” by the Censor.]
Mar. 7, 1945
Hello Sweetheart,
Well, I have some time so we’ll try it again today. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I run out of letters to answer. It will be rather difficult to write then. About all there is to write about other than that is what I doing. That’s out. That’s a deep, dark foolish secret. Most anyone could guess if they tried very hard, bit I still can’t put it down in writing. I just have 3½ more of your letters to answer. It still the same group. I haven’t gotten any more.
I got my glasses O.K. You should see them. I doubt if you would like them any more than I do. They are GI glasses of course – made to take punishment not to look decent. The lenses are a little stronger than my old ones. I think I told you about my 2 visits with Mundell. I only went over twice and I spent most of my time with him. Had a swell time – good food and we had some nice long talks. He’s a pretty nice guy. I like him. He wanted me to come over and spend a week-end with him. He told me all about the steak and ice cream they were going to have. Well, I tried everything I could think of except going AWOL and I couldn’t make it. I hated to miss the good food, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
Sweetheart, if you don’t want my folks to know about the apartment, it’s O.K. with me. What ever you say. I won’t tell them if it would make you happier. They don’t need to know anyway. Right at the present, I wondering what you will do about Dad’s being sick. For some reason, I don’t know why, it doesn’t worry me in the least. I know it should. Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in as yet.
Well, I now have fungus spread all over me. There isn’t any on my face, hands or feet yet. It’s not so bad. You get little blisters; and if you break them, another blister is formed where the fluid goes. That’s what makes it so hard to get rid of the stuff. The Sick Bay has been painting it for me and it is getting better. It seems like I clear it up in one spot only to find it worse someplace else. It’s nothing to worry about. It’s a little annoying at times but it isn’t serious. About every other fellow has some on him someplace.
My memory must be slipping. Who, where, and how does Edna fit in? You are always talking about her, but I can’t seem to remember where she lives or how you happen to be with together all the time. It’s foolish, I know, but I can’t make the connections. From all you have written about her and W—–, I seem to know them pretty well.
You sure didn’t give me much to write about in those 3 letters. I can’t find any more questions to answer. Now is when it is going to be hard to write. All I can hope for is more mail. The prospects don’t look any too good though.
I love you, Sweetheart. Did you know that? I don’t believe I’ve told you for quite a while. I’ve just thought it. It’s so much easier to dream. For instance, you never will catch me paying $8 for rooms at the Hotel Sherman. It was rather foolish to do it that time, but we enjoyed ourselves, didn’t we? I’m kind ‘a glad I paid it. I can see that kind of thing now. All I’m interested in now is a certain apartment in W. Lafayette. I want you Sweetheart. I love you so much. I’d give most anything to see you – to be with you. You’re all I want in this world Sweetheart. You’re my interest in life. We’ll be together again one of these days. I’m waiting, – just putting in the time and dreaming of you.
Good-night Sweetheart
I love you with all my heart
Pleasant Dreams
‘Nite Sweetheart.
– Hunger (2008)
This debut from director Steve McQueen chronicles the last six weeks in the life of Irish republican hunger striker Bobby Sands (Oops! I’ve given it away…). I didn’t hate it, didn’t enjoy it. The film is indeed painterly, told in images for the most part, with very little dialogue – the art background of McQueen is all over the screen. But the barrage of ultra-violent beatings, feces-caked walls, maggots and pools of urine, made me feel as if I was watching an update of Pasolini’s Salo (which is probably one of the most unpleasant works of cinema I have ever forced myself to sit through). Important historical context, obviously talented visually-oriented director, miserable viewing experience.
The trailer for Hunger:
– Shutter Island (2010)
It’s hard to say too much about this film without giving “it” away. Just go into it alert and soak up all the fine details, and it will all make sense in the end. Much more a thriller than a horror flick, and surprisingly restrained compared to some of Scorsese’s other, more notorious works (I’m thinking of Cape Fear, specifically).
[Written to Alice in Frankfort, Indiana. “Frankfort, Indiana” crossed out in ink and replaced with “Oakwood, Ill.” Return addressed: Richard, Co. G, 2nd Bn., 1st Mar., c/o F.P.O., San Francisco, Calif. Postmarked at U.S. Navy, on 8 Mar 1945 P.M., and at Frankfort, Ind. on 15 Mar 1945, 2 P.M. Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]
Mar. 6, 1945
Hello Sweetheart,
Well, let’s try it again. I’ve really been in the letter writing mood yesterday and today. I just can’t seem to write fast enough.
One of my buddies has a novel way of keeping up his correspondence. He boasts at least 6 letters a week to his wife. That’s all very well and good, but I don’t like the way he does. I could do it too if I used his method. As I said before though, I don’t like it. He mails 6 letters a week – I imagine that is true. But, he writes most of them at one time. He will write 2 pages under one date, then write two more for a different date. As far as his wife is concerned, he writes almost every day. You know yourself that the only way you can tell how often I write is by looking at the date on the letter. Nobody can tell anything by the way the mail is delivered. He can do it that way if he wants, but that’s not for me. I don’t think that would be quite fair to you. Anyway, the date I put on the top of my letters is the date I start writing it. If I don’t finish it that day, I tell you about it. If you would rather I wrote as he does, just tell me. It can be arranged. You would get more letters then, – notes I should say.
I love you Sweetheart. When I have to do unpleasant things or things I don’t like to do, I just think to myself that it will end soon and I get my mind as far away from what ever it is as I can. Funny thing, that always leaves me thinking of you, Sweetheart. I keep thinking about what a wonderful wife I have – how I glad I am you are my wife – how much I love you and want to be with you. I remember the good times we’ve had and I think how few they are compared with what we will have when we are together again. I don’t need pictures of you to remind what you look like or to remind me of good times we’ve had together. That’s all deeply planted in my memory, Sweetheart. I want some pictures though. The others don’t have any picture of you in their mind as I do and I want to show them just how beautiful my wife is. Pictures speak for themselves. There can be no argument then. You’re wonderful, Sweetheart. I love you with all my heart.
Well, I had to stop and blow my nose. My cold is getting a little better but I’m far from being rid of it. Anyway I lost my train of thought. I don’t mean that. I didn’t lose it, I broke it. So, now I’ll read over and answer some of your letters. i still have 7 here that I haven’t answered. Let’s see what they have to say.
Did I make it clear in yesterday’s letter about the package situation? Don’t send any more boxes until I write for them, Sweetheart.
It sounds as if I really have some real admirers in those two kids, R—— and ——-. I don’t know the other ones name. It sounds like they are kind of taking care of you for me too. In their own way of course. They’re keeping you rather busy, aren’t they? – or should I say occupied?
You keep pointing out how bad your grammar is. Mine isn’t exactly as it should be. At least you can spell. I’ve forgotten how to do that. I can see right now I’m really going to have trouble if I go back to school when I get back. That is also another very small worry. I just have to get back to you first. Those inconsequential items can easily be handled later.
Sweetheart, you asked if I liked ferns. Yes – I like all kinds of flowers. I think they would be nice to have in the apartment. There is only one thing though. I’ve seen too many places where the idea of flowers was overdone. I don’t like too many.
Well, Sweetheart, it looks like you have me beat on the stationery. Yours is even smaller than mine. Did you notice? I won’t be using this small stuff much longer though. I’m practically out. I don’t know what kind they have in the PX now. It looks like we’ll both find out soon though. I really like this that I’m using. If you can find some, get it. The name of it is “Sky Mail” handipak stationery.
I didn’t draw the money last pay day, Sweetheart. At the time I hadn’t heard from you. They only paid us up to the 20th of Feb. for some reason; and with just that, I couldn’t get together $150. So, I just left it on the books. I didn’t draw any. I’ll send it to you next time we get paid. Then we can have it drawing a little interest for us in the bank. O.K.?
Sweetheart, when I sent you M_____’s wedding announcement, I just wanted to pass the information on to you. I don’t think they expected a present. Anyway, all they are going to get (as far as I’m concerned) is that one letter of congratulations. Wouldn’t that be too bad if they didn’t like that or it made them unhappy? Tch! Tch!
You don’t have to worry about my writing to too many people. There are only you and the folks that I write regularly. There are 3 (I think) fellows that I write to when ever I get a letter from them. I don’t even write to Grandma. I imagine she writes about once a month. It’s disgusting – I don’t know of one girl to write to. I’m writing as many people right now as I want to. I have trouble keeping up with them at times.
I like this next letter I have in front of me. It seems to prove that our minds are running right along the same track. You talked about the debt, my things that are still at home, the bonds, and my folks. You also told me to give some of the other guys some of the cigars. I got a big kick out of that. What did you think I was doing, Sweetheart? – Smoking them all myself? As I said, our minds are running right together about the folks and all that.
You asked about how long I would be in service, Sweetheart. Nobody knows. All I can tell you is that I am signed up for the duration of the National Emergency and 6 months. it may not be that long; it may be to the exact day; or it may be longer.
I think I’ve expressed myself concerning the apartment. The letter probably hadn’t gotten to you went [sic] you wrote this one. Anyway, go ahead and get it. Move as soon as you are ready and I’ll be there to share it as soon as I can. How’s that? It had to be short. This is page #5. had you noticed, Sweetheart? I love you.
Good night Sweetheart
I love you with all my heart.
Pleasant Dreams.
‘Nite Sweetheart.
Card is titled: “Pulpit Rock, Cheaha State Park, Alabama – 8.”
Printed on back of postcard:
Many beautiful Indian legends center about Pulpit Rock in Cheaha State Park, located approximately 22 miles from Anniston about midway between Anniston and Talladega. On a clear day one may see a seventy-five mile expanse of rugged mountainous territory. Here wild flowers: laurel, azaleas, moss and foliage add to its picturesqueness.
Publishing information: Published by Moore News Co., Birmingham, Ala. Natural Color Post Card Made in U.S.A. by E.C. Kropp Co., Milw. Wis. – BDI.
A more recent depiction of the view from Pulpit Rock (photographer unknown):
Back in February, my cousin Margy announced that she had made me a music compilation for my birthday. She even e-mailed me the playlist. I was touched, and impressed. Impressed because rarely does anyone make me mix tapes (or mix CDs). I guess it’s just become a daunting proposition to do that for a guy who has to hack his way through CDs just to get to his kitchen. They don’t realize how much I love receiving them. So Margy had done a really terrific thing, in my view.
I was so excited, in fact, that I told her I’d make her one in return. “Give me a theme, Margy. What’s the first thing that comes to your mind, even if it’s just a word.” “The moon,” she said. It was late on my end of the line in Alabama, so it must have been a moonlit night in California where she was. Done, I promised her. I put together a “moon” playlist within 24 hours, burned it onto a disc and mailed it off.
That was in late February of this year.
Early last week, I had a brief Facebook exchange with Margy. During it, I realized that I’d never gotten that birthday mix CD from her. I wrote:
Say, speaking of sharing…where’s that CD you made (or maybe didn’t make) for my birthday? I got tired of sleeping by the mailbox outside waiting for it, and finally last week moved inside to my bed. It’s much more comfortable there.
Her reply was as roguish as my query:
I was just in iTunes putting a playlist together and saw your songs…I already have them on a DVD, but then when you said you preferred the CD [I had done this], I had to cut some of the songs out, which I then did, then didn’t cut enough, so it was still too long, and I couldn’t decide what to do next, then it must have turned into a Monday and I was lost in the world that is work and I have been working a million (or maybe more like 50) hours a week – some eves and weekends – then…seriously – so sorry – I was thinking of you when I saw your playlist in there and…
I should have said “returning from outer space where I have been since Feb. 27 and haven’t had access to iTunes.”
My cousin Margy is so funny. And I know one day I will get that birthday mix CD from her, and it will be great.
In the meantime, here is what I sent to her.
Approximate playing time: 80 minutes.
Hem “Lord, Blow the Moon Out Please” (2000)
Neko Case “I Wish I Was the Moon” (2002)
Television “Marquee Moon” (1977)
The Blue Men “Orbit Around the Moon” (1960)
Los Zafiros “La Luna en tu Mirada” (1965)
Henry Mancini “Moon River Cha Cha” (1961)
Jonathan King “Everyone’s Gone to the Moon” (1965)
Jackson Browne “Culver Moon” (1996)
Paul Whiteman “It’s Only a Paper Moon” (1933)
Les Baxter “Lunar Rhapsody” (1946)
E*I*E*I*O “When the Stars are Out and the Moon Is High” (1986)
Pete Krebs & the Gossamer Wings “Her Dress So Green in the Moonlight” (2002)
Great Lake Swimmers “See You on the Moon” (2007)
Ethel Merman “Moonshine Lullaby” (1949)
Fats Waller “Let’s Pretend There’s a Moon” (1934)
The Boswell Sisters “Shine On, Harvest Moon” (1931)
Gillman Deaville “Face in the Moon” (1994)
Cat Stevens “Boy with a Moon & Star on His Head” (1972)
Robyn Hitchcock “Full Moon in My Soul” (2004)
The Out-Islanders “Moon Mist” (1961)
Josh Ritter “You’ve Got the Moon (solo acoustic)” (2008)
[audio:Fred_FM_playlist_071810.mp3] Fred FM playlist (25 July 2010)
ADDENDUM: This is purely coincidental but, last night, driving, I noticed that the moon was nearly, if not completely, full. I prepared this post weeks ago, without an eye on the lunar schedule. It was, in fact, originally scheduled for posting last Sunday.
[Written to Alice in Frankfort, Indiana. “Frankfort, Indiana” crossed out in ink and replaced with “Oakwood, Ill.” Return addressed: Richard, Co. G, 2nd Bn., 1st Mar., c/o F.P.O., San Francisco, Calif. Postmarked at U.S. Navy, on 7 Mar 1945, and at Frankfort, Ind. on 15 Mar 1945, 2 P.M. Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]
Mar. 5, 1945
Hello Sweetheart,
Well, Sweetheart, here we go. In a way I almost hate to start. It is extremely hot. The persperation is just dripping off me. It’s very hard to keep it off my glasses so I can see what I’m doing. Then to help things along, I have a nice cold. The nose-blowing or sniffing doesn’t bother me much but I have a nice cough with it that is annoying. It makes me hotter to cough. Can’t help it though.
I love you Sweetheart. Bet you didn’t know that, did you? How is my mail coming through? There should be some. Really!! Is it coming the same as mine? In the last three days, I have received 8 letters from you dating from Feb. 2 to the 22nd.
Before I start answering questions, there is something I must tell you. You may already know about it, I don’t know. It’s about Dad. Have you heard from any of them lately? In case you haven’t I’ll tell you about it. Around 7 o’clock on the night of Feb. 17, Dad had a heart attack. It must have been pretty bad. The doctors said that unless he stayed flat on his back for at least 6 weeks, it might be too bad. Any one of this type attack could be fatal. I haven’t heard too much about it myself. Do you think you could or should go down and see him? It is up to you Sweetheart. I won’t tell you that you should or have to or anything like that. It’s entirely up to you. If you want to go, not if you should. I won’t be mad if you don’t. I love you, Sweetheart. You are all in this world I care for or about. Just as long as nothing happens to you and you are happy Sweetheart, I’ll be happy. You are the only person I worry about. Do things as you see fit.
Now, Sweetheart, let’s see again what you had to say in your letters. I don’t remember right at the present if there were many questions, but I’ll soon find out. I love you Sweetheart.
Well, I guess you setlled that question about eating crackers in bed. I solemnly swear that I will never eat another cracker in bed. – – – unless I can get my hands on some more while I am in bed or you are eating them with me. Now, does that th take care of that little item satisfactorily? I hope so.
You keep asking what you can send me. Well, Sweetheart, I think you’d better slow down and not send any packages for a while. It’s been quite a while since I have received any packages. I’m afraid they are holding them up like the 1st Class mail. According to your letters, I must have a regular boat fl full of them somewhere. I’m almost positive that I will get them all at once. I dread that day. What I will I do with all the stuff. I won’t be able to eat it all myself; I don’t have any place to store it; and I won’t be able to give it away: – everybody will be in the same predicament. I could use a couple of them right now. I’m hungry, but we will be eating pretty soon. In case you didn’t guess, I’m very unhappy with the delivery service. Tough – isn’t it?
Say, what ever happened to those snap-shots I asked for? Didn’t you get that letter of mine asking for them? You know, I only have two pictures of you. One of them neither one of us care for. That leaves just one, you standing in from of Kepner’s. Send me some pictures, that’s what I really want right now. Well, anyway, that much is possible. I want you not your picture. Every body has pictures and there is nothing they like better to do than show them off. All I have is pictures of the folks that they sent me. I don’t particularly care to show them. i want to show youoff. I’m proud of you Sweetheart. That in itself makes all the difference in the world. I also want to see this new hair-do you tell me about. It has me wondering. I’m hoping for the best. Let’s see it, now. Everything else sounds pretty good – the cost, the comments of other people, and your reactions to it. How about getting my opinion on it? I have to see it first though.
Tell Dick “hello” for me. I really get a big kick out of those parts of your letters telling about his concern for me. I really enjoy it. How is he making out with his farm?
Well, I now know about Queen. Your letter came giving the explanation. It was rather queer before. Here she was coming home before I knew she was away or why. Everything is cleared up now.
While we’re on that subject, what about Lois? When, and all that sort of thing. I wonder what Lois would think if she knew it took Queen to remind me of her. Well, it wasn’t that bad, but it almost sonds sounds like it, doesn’t it? I wrote Harry this morning and told him I was going to be an “Uncle” again. Be sure an give me the blow by blow description. In fact, give me all the latest gossip. I like to hear what’s going on around the place. I must keep up with the news you know. I have to know what’s going on so I’ll be up to date when I do finally come home.
Well, I just got back from chow. I almost missed it. Just too busy writing to my sweet and lovely wife. I argued my way in though. We didn’t have much tonight – 2 weiners, peas, turnips, a piece of devil’s food cake and some orange drink. My hunger is satisfied though – for the present.
Now, I think I’d better give a little explanation as to why this is the last page of this letter even though I haven’t said all I wanted to. All my stamps are on envelopes, I can’t get any more stamps right at the present, and 5 pages is all I can send for 6¢. Now does that cover it? Remember that Sweetheart. Maybe it will explain why some of my letters are cut short. (if you consider 5 pages as short)
I must go take a shower now Sweetheart and go to Sick Bay. The Fungus I had under my arms is now all over me. They can’t do much for it but they do slow it down. I love you Sweetheart. All my day-dreams concern you. They are always about us together, Past and Future.
Good-night Sweetheart
I love you with all my heart.
Pleasant Dreams.
‘Nite Sweetheart
Here is another video from the Halloween 2007 Josh Ritter in-store at Laser’s Edge.
Zack Hickman had just finished singing a song about his mustache while clad in a bright pink pajama suit (see, I told you it was a special night). “Stuck to You” was the second-to-last song of the evening. And there’s that girl again, who I last time refered to as the Glenn Gould of in-store performances, singing along with all of the fast-patter words. Jonathan remembered her in a recent e-mail to me:
“That girl singing along in the front was an all time great attendee. Did you see…where Josh tries to get her to stop and then says he is just going to make up lyrics?”
It’s right here on the video. Was Josh inspired to make up those lyrics about beer because of the pop-a-top sounds in the crowd? You decide.
And here again is Brian T. Murphy’s recording of “Stuck to You,” which mercifully picks up little of Miss Gould’s sprechstimme, but is a document of our crappy little sound system that loved to drop out audio at the most inopportune times.
Josh gives me a shout-out there at the beginning of the clip. The response from those in attendance was humbling (thankfully, there were no cat-calls that I could hear).
“Animals have these advantages over man: they never hear the clock strike, they die without any idea of death, they have no theologians to instruct them, their last moments are not disturbed by unwelcome and unpleasant ceremonies, their funerals cost them nothing, and no one starts lawsuits over their wills.”
