Spitball Army

They imported pollinating bees to the cucumber fields, hoping for a divine yield. All they got were drops of honeyed manna.

No introduction is necessary.

[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 27 Feb 1945, P.M.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Feb. 24, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     I love you.  Well, Sweetheart, here is the beginning of another letter.  As far as what’s going on around here, there isn’t much to tell.  I went to the show night before.  It was a pretty good show – what I saw of it.  “Bathing Beauties” with Red Skeleton & Ester Williams.  Red had a lot of fun.  You will too when and if you see it.

     It is rather warm at the present.  I hope I don’t ruin this with my persperation.  I have an old envelope under my arm but it’s beginning to soak through.  Can’t help it.

     I hope you have received some mail by now.  It’s not altogether my fault.  I haven’t been writting as often as I should but I definitely know I’ve been writting more regular than you have been receiving.  The letters were put in the mail.  This business about the dreams is rather queer, isn’t it?  I had the same kind of dreams when I first got over here.  As soon as I received your first letter though, I quit having the dreams.  Maybe our trust was momentarily slacking.  In my waking hours I knew everything was all right.  Those dreams can make you very unhappy, can’t they?  I sure don’t want to have any more of them.  I hope you don’t have any more of them either Sweetheart.

     You write as if you are pretty tired of snow.  What I wouldn’t give to see a little!  For me this has been a pretty long summer, you know.  I sure you like to get out of this climate.  It’s a cinch I won’t be able to get rid of this heat rash and crud until I do get away from here.  That will all come in due time I suppose.

     You made a pretty broad statement in one of your letters.  You said that if I kept on loving you, you would be happy.  That’s a load off my mind.  I won’t have to worry a bit about your happiness from now on.  Your happiness is assured.  I’ll always love you, Sweetheart.  If any other things come up, let me know and I’ll make you as happy as I can.  I just hope all the rest will be ½ as easy as this.  I like making you happy.  More than ever, I like making you happy in this way.  I love you with all my heart Sweetheart.

     I can’t remember whether I told you about getting my glasses or not.  Did I?  Well, I got them and chased Mundell down again.  I had some trouble this time.  It took me almost an hour to find him.  He was out running around and nobody knew exactly where he was.  I found him though.  He took me to chow with him again as I had planned.  Queer, both times I found him just in time to eat with him.  I did plan on eating with him, but I hadn’t planned on searching all over the place to find him.  We had some good chow and talked for over an hour.  I had a nice time and when I left, he gave me a flashlight.  He had two good GI lights so he gave me one of them.

     Sweetheart, I’m afraid I can’t give you much in the way of suggestions for the apartment.  I think I would like the Varsity Apts.  I like their looks and the outside.  I still don’t know what’s on the inside.  I think I would rather have our own furniture and stuff in it.  I don’t like to see other people’s.  You could fix it up gradually.  What are you going to do about a job?  Have you decided or tried anything yet?  Let me know your progress and what you think of any suggestions.  As far as what I’ll do after the war, I don’t know yet.  I’ll probably come back and go on to Purdue.  I can’t say definitely as yet.  I do want you to get the apt. as soon as possible though Sweetheart.

     Where was Queen?  What was wrong with her?  You told me you brought her home.  That’s very nice, but you must have slipped up some where.  You must have thought in stead of writting.  I didn’t know she was gone any place.  You’ll have to write and cut me in on the scoop, won’t you?  You’d better write anyway.  That’s what I’m really interested in at the present.  I am curious about Queen though.

     I was rather surprised to hear about Jim & Lois.  Especially the part about Lois was surprising.  You’ll have to extend my apologies and regrets.  I’m truly sorry I can’t be there.  (That’s also kidding)  You can also extend my congratulations and tell her I’m going to be a bit on the digas disagred disagreeable side.  I hope it’s a girl.  Then I’ll bet I wouldn’t get all wet just because the baby decided to.  Danny made me rather unhappy that afternoon.

     Well Sweetheart, you have a birthday coming up next week.  This is a little different than it was last year, isn’t it?  This time last year we were really having a nice time.  Are you still disappointed about the roses?  It seems like all I can do is dream, Sweetheart.  I’ve spent most of the afternoon dreaming now.  I can’t seem to write any more Sweetheart.  We’ll both have to continue dreaming.

     Good night Sweetheart
          I love you with all my heart
               Pleasant Dreams
                    ‘Nite Sweetheart
                         I love you.

“Over-the-top” seems hardly adequate to describe this synchronized swimming “dance number” from 1944’s Bathing Beauty, featuring Esther Williams:

Witness what happens when footage from Powell & Pressburger’s 1947 classic Black Narcissus is set to music from the trailer to the 2010 Christopher Nolan film Inception.  That makes for one intense fan trailer (courtesy of Brad Brevet).

The original Black Narcissus trailer:

The Inception trailer:

Where there were two, one cat now remains. She wanders the house, moaning, finds a towel upon which he once slept and burrows in.

– Written by @FOFOEOCOCO.

Card is untitled on the front.

Printed on the back of this postcard:

WINCHESTER MYSTERY HOUSE
SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA

SARAH L. WINCHESTER – architectural and artistic genius…or…misguided spiritualist?  Both aspects are demonstrated in these mysterious and rambling roof lines.

B5068                             Guided Tours Daily

Publication information:  The Continental Card.  The Winchester House.  A Registered California Historical Landmark No. 868.  Mike Roberts, Berkeley 94710.

The wikipedia page for the Winchester House contains a brief explanation of the weirdness that went/goes on there.

He was also an ornery cat.  Just ask his littermate Barbara, who he’d chase around the house until Barbara was cornered in a closet or under a chair and would scream like a banshee.  Then he would step back a few feet, sit down and just stare at her in a daring taunt.  Ornery.

He loved to eat.  Unlike many animals, though, he wouldn’t mind if you sidled up to him while he was at his food bowl.  I could scratch his head or between his shoulder blades (he might even stop eating for a moment if I happened to do that), or stroke his fur while he was eating.  He’d never protest, at least not while there was still food in the bowl.

His obsession with whatever was happening in the kitchen drew him into that room whenever I happened to be there, even if I was just stepping in for a glass of water.  If I was cooking or cleaning in the kitchen, he’d be right there, circling underfoot, threatening to either get stepped on or to trip me.  This happened so often that when I’d say “Get out of my kitchen!” to him, he’d learned to saunter off, always hissing.  It was, after all, his kitchen.

Ziggy and I developed a smart routine for mealtimes.  First, I’d empty a can of food into his ceramic bowl under his watchful eye.  Then, as I carried the empty can to the trash, he’d circle me counter-clockwise twice as I’d count aloud, “One. Two.”  He’d then lead me to the refrigerator door, as I’d sometimes have part of a can to preserve for later.  Whether or not I had to, I’d open the fridge door and say, “Fridge.”  That done, he’d lead me to the counter upon which his filled and ready bowl sat.  I’d say, “Do a dance!” and he’d shuffle his paws on the wooden cabinet door.  Next, both of us turning around, I’d carry his bowl to the opposite wall.  He’d jump up with his front paws on the wall, I’d say “What’s the word, Ziggy?”  He’d respond with a Mao.  I’d kneel to the floor, place my right arm under him, say “Jump!” and he’d slide off the wall until his paws were resting on my forearm.  Last, I’d ask, “Give me a kiss!” and he would jerk his head back far enough to tap me on the chin.  Then it was his time to eat.  We did this twice a day for years.  I’d say that he trained me pretty darn well.

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[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 21 Feb 1945.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Feb. 20, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     Well, here it is Tuesday night.  Time has passed very fast for me.  It seems like I just finished writting you, but that was 2 days ago.  It’s a good thing I have a calendar.  There isn’t anything new to tell you Sweetheart.  As each day goes by I seem to get more stuff on my back.  I can’t do anything about it though.

     I wish some of those packages would start coming.  I’m afraid they are all going to come at once.  Why can’t they be strung out – – I’m sure I would appreciate them more.  I’m very happy when I receive anything from you Sweetheart.  First class comes first of course – both with the post-office and with me.  I love you Sweetheart.

     There are a couple of fellows down the street making music.  It sounds pretty nice – guitar and harmonica.  They are pretty good.  Thank goodness nobody is trying to sing.

     I’m going over to the other island and get my glasses tomorrow.  I know I’ll enjoy myself over there and get a good meal.  I told Mundell I’d be sure and look him up.  Don’t worry – I will.  They really have good chow.  The place he lives is much nicer than anything we have here.  I can’t remember if I told you about it or not.  It was funny eating out of a plate with actual Silverware.  It really scared me.  I was afraid I was going to swallow that little fork and spoon.  I didn’t though.  It’s going to be hard to be cvilized if and when I get back to the states.  Little things like that for instance.  I’m used to eating out of my mess gear.  Oh well, we won’t worry about that.  Let’s just get me back.  Those little details such as eating will be simple compared to that.  I’ll be there though.  You just be there waiting for me Sweetheart.  That’s all I care about.  I just want you, all of you, all your love Sweetheart.  I’m looking forward to seeing you in our apartment.  It will be so wonderful with just the two of us.  Then I won’t have to be bothered with writting letters.  I still don’t like to write them.  Don’t worry, I’ll write anyway.  I love you Sweetheart and I have to tell you in some way that I’m sure you will know.  You can’t actually hear me so I’ll keep right on writting.  I love you every minute of the day.  I’m always thinking of you Sweetheart.  Don’t forget me.  I’m still here (loving you more and more) even though the Postman does tricks with our mail.

     Good-night Sweetheart
          I love you with all my heart
               Pleasant Dreams
                    ‘Nite Sweetheart

Recently, following a link from my friend Jonathan’s Facebook page to his MySpace page, I stumbled upon this (and another) video clip from the now-legendary Halloween 2007 midnight Laser’s Edge in-store performance by Josh Ritter.  And I say “legendary” in all seriousness, even if it is only I who feels that way: the air that night was a-cracklin’.

As you can see, Josh was toga-clad, it being Halloweeen (he played his entire Workplay set earlier that night dressed this way).  This song was near the end of his set, so it must have been about 12:45 a.m. or so.  I guess the late-night vibe was what encouraged that young lady in the front to sing along with practically every word of “Girl in the War” (And if you like that, there’s more in another video; she’s the Glenn Gould of in-store performances.).

I feel compelled to add here that the opening of this clip contains one of the most bizarre musician-to-crowd exchanges that I think I’ve ever heard:

Josh Ritter (to a roomful of people in Birmingham, Alabama – a two-hour drive from Atlanta, Georgia): You guys ever been to Atlanta?

Crowd: [Cheers]

Girl in the crowd: Go to the Coke plant!

Guy in the crowd: [sounds like] Go to Nashville!

Many thanks to MySpace user Doug Doug for taking and posting this video.  Please don’t remove it (is there more?).

Josh’s management encouraged me to have the evening’s in-store recorded for possible use as an EP release.  He-of-many-talents Brian T. Murphy did the recording duties that night but, sadly, his handiwork never got a release.  Below is what this same version of “Girl in the War” sounded like on his rejected recording:

She chops off the cucumber tip, salts the stump, and waits for the bitterness to subside, not realizing it’s in the seeds.