Minor Wisdom

Thomas Merton the music lover

In his autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, Thomas Merton writes about his teen years in London in 1929. After breakfast and bath, he would sometimes

go to some gramophone shop and listen to a lot of hot records—and then buy one, to pay for the privilege of listening to all the rest. I used to go to Levy’s, on the top floor of one of those big buildings in the crescent of Regent Street, because they imported all the latest Victors and Brunswicks and Okehs from America, and I would lock myself up in one of those little glass-doored booths, and play all the Duke Ellingtons and Louis Armstrongs and the old King Olivers and all the other things I have forgotten. Basin Street Blues, Beale Street Blues, Saint James Infirmary, and all the other places that had blues written about them; all these I suddenly began to know much of by indirection and woeful hearsay, and I guess I lived vicariously in all the slums in all the cities of the South: Memphis and New Orleans and Birmingham, places which I had never seen. I don’t know where those streets were, but I certainly knew something true about them, which I found out on that top floor in Regent Street and in my study at Oakham.

That’s the power of music. Long before the World Wide Web, it reaches across the Atlantic and captures the heart and mind of a self-centered 15-year-old in London. (Yes, Merton would say that he was self-centered in those days.)

For those who love the sounds of New Orleans

This post is mainly for lovers of New Orleans music living in in other places, such as Oregon. It may be a nice place, but may not be conducive to finding the groove. Wherever you are, here are some ways to feed your musical soul:

• Listen to WWOZ. It’s broadcast locally at 90.7 FM, and broadcast worldwide on the Web. So if you can read this post, you can listen. The music is eclectic; the only qualification is that it’s something you probably can’t find on corporate radio. Personally I like the evenings, which usually feature blues or R&B. Most highly recommended: Billy Delle’s Records from the Crypt on Wednesday evenings. Runner up: Jivin’ Gene (assisted by Neil Pellegrin) on Tuesday evenings. If you like what you hear, be a good citizen and become a member.


• Read offBeat for musical news and reviews, and learn who and what are worth listening to. You can read it for free, but if you like what you read and are not a poverty-stricken student, be a good citizen and subscribe.


• When you’re ready to make a musical purchase, resist Amazon.com’s siren song. Go instead to the Louisiana Music Factory. It’s just as easy as shopping on Amazon.com, plus you’ll be helping the New Orleans economy.

Point-counterpoint on State Children’s Health Insurance Program (SCHIP) Reauthorization

A couple of days ago, I got an e-mail from David Vitter’s office, explaining the senator’s opposition to SCHIP. Below is the text of Vitter’s e-mail. Below that is a statement by Jim Wallis, author of God’s Politics, supporting SCHIP.

Comments, anyone?

State Children’s Health Insurance Program (SCHIP) Reauthorization

Good news: Yesterday the Senate passed the State Children’s Health Insurance Program (SCHIP) Reauthorization (previously blogged here), by a whopping 68-31 vote. That would be enough to override GWB’s threatened veto, at least on the Senate side.

As for our Louisiana senators, the bad news is that one of the two, unlike many of his Republican colleagues, could not put partisanship aside for the sake of children’s health:

Sen. David Vitter, Republican, N
Sen. Mary Landrieu, Democrat, Y

To find out how your senators voted, click here.

Real fans

If you think you’re a die-hard fan of your favorite team, you probably don’t hold a candle to the Saints fans who were watching the game last night at Ms. Mae’s bar. According to this Times-Picayune story, these fans would not stop watching their favorite team get pummeled by the Titans — even though the bar was on fire:

A three-alarm fire damaged popular nightspot Miss Mae’s at Napoleon Avenue and Magazine Street on Monday night.

Fire officials believe the fire started next door at Cafe Bayard and jumped the 18-inch gap between the buildings, according to Chief Glenn Trainor of the New Orleans Fire Department....

Fire officials say they had some resistance from bar patrons who were reluctant to evacuate because they were watching the Saints game....

Tip of the cap to Maitri for this one.

(In)famous last words

Via eLink, and courtesy of Brain Candy, here’s a web page of some last words spoken by condemned folk before their executions. Some of my favorites:

Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel.
Executed in electric chair in New York.
~~ George Appel, d. 1928

Take a step forward, lads. It will be easier that way.
Executed by firing squad.
~~ Erskine Childers, Irish patriot, d. November 24, 1922

How about this for a headline for tomorrow's paper? French fries.
Executed in electric chair in Oklahoma.
~~ James French, d. 1966

I’d like to thank my family for loving me and taking care of me. And the rest of the world can kiss my ass.
Executed by injection, Texas.
~~ Johnny Frank Garrett, Sr., d. February 11, 1992

I’d rather be fishing.
Executed in electric chair, Louisiana.
~~ Jimmy Glass, d. June 12, 1987

I did not get my Spaghetti-O’s, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.
Executed by injection, Oklahoma.
~~ Thomas J. Grasso, d. March 20, 1995

You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the Grim Reaper.
Executed in California’s gas chamber.
~~ Robert Alton Harris, d. April 21, 1992

Shoot straight you bastards and don’t make a mess of it!
Executed by firing squad.
~~ Harry Harbord “Breaker” Morant, Australian poet & national hero, d. 1902

Hurry it up you Hoosier bastard! I could hang a dozen men while you’re screwing around.
Executed by hanging Leavenworth, Kansas.
~~ Carl Panzram, d. September 5, 1930

And my # 1 favorite:

Good people are always so sure they’re right.
Executed at San Quentin.
~~ Barbara Graham, d. June 3, 1955

New tag line

A few years ago, I made a five-day silent retreat at the Jesuit Spirituality Center in Grand Coteau, Louisiana. At some point during the retreat, I read the Parable of the Prodigal Son. And I reached verse 20, and wept. Mainly because I see myself as “still a long way off.”

I still like my old tag line — the Yogi Berra quotation, “You can observe a lot just by watching.” But for now, the tag line here is the most beautiful line in the most beautiful story in the gospels.

To soothe the savage breast

New Orleans CityBusiness reports this important item:

NEW ORLEANS - A traveling breast museum is scheduled to make a stop in New Orleans as part of a national tour to promote breast cancer awareness and raise funds for the disease.

The tour, “Jugs Across America,” involves a 53-foot semitrailer and museum featuring more than 100 “Jingle Jugs,” sets of plastic breasts painted by artists.

...

The tour will be in New Orleans at 7:30 p.m. Monday at the Superdome, where the New Orleans Saints and Tennessee Titans are scheduled to play.

...

A novelty product, Jingle Jugs are a replica of breasts mounted to a plaque. When activated, the breasts jiggle and play music or a prerecorded breast cancer message. Jingle Jugs can also record messages.

As we lawyers say, “res ipsa loquitur, baby.”

Our turn

Last year, the Saints gave hope and joy to people who needed both badly. Now that they’re going through some adversity, it’s our turn to return the favor.

Seriously, anybody can love a team while it’s winning. The real test of love is whether it’s constant during tough times. And after the last two games, boy!, these times are looking kind of tough.

This Monday, my firm is having a dress-down Saints day — we can come to work in jeans and Saints jerseys. I’ll have mine on. If they keep losing, I may have to buy a black-and-gold fleur de lis flag. If they go 0–16, I may have to get inked.

Just two sensory pleasures of New Orleans

Here’s how a typical Wednesday evening goes for me. I usually work downtown until 7 p.m., then drive home uptown. That may sound like drudgery followed by everyday–everywhere commuting, but wait.

On the drive home, I treat my ears to the best radio show in New Orleans and possibly the world: Billy Delle’s Records from the Crypt on WWOZ. Anyone anywhere with an Internet connection can listen to WWOZ, but only in New Orleans can you listen while driving.

Now, a program like Records from the Crypt demands a proper visual setting. In my case, I’m lucky enough to work near one end of Magazine Street and live near the other end. Magazine Street is, without doubt, one of the most visually interesting streets in the country. So I spend the 20 or so minutes of my Wednesday-evening commute pleasuring my ears with Records from the Crypt and pleasuring my eyes with the people and architecture along Magazine Street.

And people wonder why we live here. I wonder why anyone with any aesthetic sense would want to live anywhere else.