Some of my best finds are the random ones, the ones I don’t even know I want until I see them. This beautiful salad bowl was like a bolt of lightning, jolting me with such awe when I saw it. The fun shape, striking design, and delightful black and gold rectangles and starbursts were of such a combination that I was helpless against its allure. Resistance was futile.
“Long Ago and Far Away,” written in 1944 by Jerome Kern and Ira Gershwin for the movie Cover Girl, is a beautiful and evocative song. Performed in the movie, which in itself is sublime, by Gene Kelly and Rita Hayworth (dubbed by Martha Mears), it invokes such sweet longing finally realized. Even if it’s not Rita Hayworth actually singing it, the sight of she and Gene Kelly on screen together during this song is an enchantment the viewer doesn’t want to miss.
When I got the idea that I had to have a bar cart (or tea cart), the one I envisioned was brass with glass shelves. The initial search online brought up many options with those particular qualities, most with prices far out of my reach (this is an on going theme with me). I found one that Target carried that was within my price range and exactly what I had envisioned. . .except it was from the previous year, so they no longer had it available. If only I had started my search a year earlier, it would have been ideal. Not dwelling on it too long, the in person search commenced. Oh, were there some stunning options out there!
“Time After Time” was written in 1947 by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne, and introduced in the movie It Happened in Brooklyn by Frank Sinatra and later, Kathryn Grayson.
Oh, this song! I don’t think I can even do it the justice it deserves, but I will give it a tolerable attempt. Listening to this song, and letting it engulf me, brings the feeling as if I could crumble and be swept away on the wind. It’s the ultimate in piercing straight to my unapologetic, sentimentally plagued soul.
In 1956, Chet Baker recorded a version that intensifies this already divine song. It is soft, warm, and lingering, with so much coming from the heart. His vocals glide along with the music, to craft an unmistakable, not only sound, but impression upon the heart. It’s incredibly easy to lose oneself and entwine oneself with the music and the quality it possesses.
There was a green one sitting in the kitchen, under the yellow rotary phone when I was growing up. There was one sitting in my grandparents’ kitchen, under the window, where I could look out and see across my Gramps’ field to my house.
“It’s Not For Me To Say” was written in 1957 by Robert Allen and Al Stillman for the movie Lizzie. It was originally performed, and is mostly associated with Johnny Mathis. He had the most successful version of the song, but Bing Crosby’s version is by far my most beloved. Oh, the response this invokes in me! It’s such a beautiful song, with lyrics such as:
As far as I can see, this is heaven
And speaking just for me, it’s ours to share
Perhaps the glow of love will grow
With every passing day
Or we may never meet again
But then it’s not for me to say
I had a different post scheduled for today, but. . . We won! Finally, 30 years later and we are World Series Champions once again! My post last week talked about sticking with this team through all the years, of the last championship to the consistent losing to last year’s wild run. This one will probably be a jumbled mess, but humor me.
With Halloween approaching, I figured writing about horror movies would be appropriate. I could write about horror movies any time of the year, so it’s not completely limited to just now. I’ve talked about some movies to creep you out before, specifically a couple of my favorite silent movies. This time I chose four, each from a different decade. There were so many I could have chosen, but as I said this time there are four, the numerous other options will have to wait until future posts. And while my intention is not to reveal any spoilers below, something may come out that I don’t even think of as a spoiler. I’ve seen all the movies so many times, I may not even realize I’m revealing something groundbreaking to someone who hasn’t seen it. I apologize ahead of time if I do so.
House on Haunted Hill (1959), starring Vincent Price, isn’t necessarily the most chilling movie, but it sure is fun. By today’s standards it’s quite campy, but that’s precisely one of the reasons I love it. I think I remember reading somewhere that when the movie was originally in theatres, a skeleton would fly out over the audience. How fun is that? I can only imagine audiences of the time, not jaded by CGI or heaps of blood in their movies, being startled and screaming at the sight of the skeleton suddenly appearing. What a grand time!
I have always loved sports. I grew up playing them, in the backyard and officially organized. I grew up watching them, in a seat at games or glued to the TV, screaming and cheering in both instances. I am forever loyal to my teams, even when they’re at the bottom. I have lived in San Diego over 10 years, and you can ask any San Diego sports fans I’ve encountered how deep my loyalty runs. A season where the Chiefs finished 2-14, I was at Qualcomm in my red shirt rooting my team on, even though they seriously had no chance. Boy, did they stink that year, sort of like this year. I may get frustrated when my teams don’t do well, and I may be a little morose over losses, but I still love them. I get very into games and am very passionate, to the point I may alarm the people who are watching games with me. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just over here having a heart attack and needing an IV drip!”
I decided to do a series of posts about certain songs that . . . just do something to my insides. I don’t know if I can adequately put into words the feeling I’m given by these songs, but I’m going to do my best. Music is an important part of my life, and can generate such an array of emotions and there are so many musicians and songs that I love. These songs, though, are the ones that make my soul flourish. They cause an internal and beyond reaction, a sensation that makes my heart well-up and about burst. It’s an agreeable feeling, mixed with an ache, but one that I know will be soothed. . .some day. If you reference back to my post, Please Step On My Toes, you’ll get a bit of an understanding of the context of these songs for me. I have a play list of these songs, and I’ll go through them one by one, in no particular order.
First up, “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love,” written by Dorothy Fields and Jimmy McHugh in 1928. Like most older songs, there are quite a few covers and versions. The one that gets me right in the essence of my being is from 1947 from Django Reinhardt with Freddie Taylor on vocals. For anyone who may not know Django Reinhardt, he was a French guitarist most prominent in the 1930s and 1940s.