tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post3548106377426465699..comments2024-03-26T23:41:10.319+00:00Comments on Authors Electric: Starry, Starry Night by Bill KirtonKatherine Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17196712319655603442noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-18111506992341013642019-06-08T12:21:27.778+01:002019-06-08T12:21:27.778+01:00Julia, Umberto, thank you. As with all the others,...Julia, Umberto, thank you. As with all the others, it's nice to feel that these thoughts and experiences are shared.<br />Perhaps I should add, though, a postscript to tell you that the same daughter was visiting Aberdeen yesterday evening for a friend's daughter's wedding today and she and I had a wonderful evening at a restaurant during which she drank even more wine than I did and yet we both remained more than relatively coherent (and there was no singing).<br />The memory you describe, Umberto, was magical. It must have been a privilege to experience it - every time.<br />And there's no need for you to apologise for that abysmal fraud and his visit. We have many American friends (including yourself, of course) and I know that not one of them is responsible for his elevation and that your suffering at his (tiny) hands is far greater than ours.Bill Kirtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16345949773423764808noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-36774776285814057562019-06-08T04:17:23.063+01:002019-06-08T04:17:23.063+01:00Thanks, Bill, You've added "comfort tunes...Thanks, Bill, You've added "comfort tunes" to "comfort foods" and other evocatuers of visceral Proustian memories - plus the observation - like Proust - that such memories can be formed all of one's life, during adulthood as well as childhood (in your case, while visiting your grown daughter and her children.) We all have different comfort tunes. I am moved oddly, for example, when I hear an opera singer doing warmup scales, accompanied by ascending chords on a piano. It carries me back to early childhood days at the Victorian-laced, book-lined home of my retired diva grandmother in Boston while she gave voice lessons to her students behind the curtained glass doors of her conservatory. Anyway, too bad orange-arse had to disturb your scepter'd isle's reality. America owes the world an apology for letting him - and letting Washington's neo-fascist sh/t-show - happen, no matter what flummeries go on elsewhere. There is no excuse. Amid much hand-wringing and teeth-gnashing, we're trying our best to rid ourselves this parasitic plague, but recovery will be slow, I'm afraid.Umberto Tosihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04939504157464234443noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-15078978206461064062019-06-07T22:33:42.430+01:002019-06-07T22:33:42.430+01:00Nothing to add - but thank you for putting that ti...Nothing to add - but thank you for putting that title and beautiful song into my head -- together with the image of your daughter singing to her boys. Lovely. Taking it upstairs with me nowjulia joneshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09773900100240758504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-247545038184225262019-06-07T17:26:40.065+01:002019-06-07T17:26:40.065+01:00Thank you, and you're right, Sandra. The orang...Thank you, and you're right, Sandra. The orange oaf should be expunged (from everything)<br />And thanks,too, Eden, for the kind words, but I've only managed one music blog, you produce them every Monday.Bill Kirtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16345949773423764808noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-58741645405217941532019-06-07T16:59:31.995+01:002019-06-07T16:59:31.995+01:00Well written and insightful Bill. I'm a bit yo...Well written and insightful Bill. I'm a bit younger than you, so I heard the song "Vincent" by Don McClean as I read your post. Beautiful, sad, autumnal tune, and fits with the mood of your post. <br /><br />xo<br />edenEden Bayleehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08043540142363106345noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-35253907126095534472019-06-07T16:26:55.094+01:002019-06-07T16:26:55.094+01:00Thak you, Bill - as deep and thought-provoking as ...Thak you, Bill - as deep and thought-provoking as ever. I shall operate selective memory and erase Trmpf from the post, concentrating instead on the song. I don't mind the daft rituals and funny hats, except when they get mixed up with power to influence our lives instead of just being a pantomime enjoyed by tourists.Sandra Hornhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01761260568729338471noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-50215581972465540332019-06-07T16:20:37.545+01:002019-06-07T16:20:37.545+01:00Internationalism, eh? Mum didn't mind that the...Internationalism, eh? Mum didn't mind that the lady in question was 'My coal black baby' but she didn't approve of the line 'she's got a pair of hips, just like two battleships' because she sort of took it as being 'a bit personal.' Small but well-cushioned was my dear old ma!Jan Needlehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15823078224282953782noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-44640560594765518582019-06-07T11:50:28.497+01:002019-06-07T11:50:28.497+01:00Sorry, Jan, our comments overlapped. Thanks, thoug...Sorry, Jan, our comments overlapped. Thanks, though, for bringing some much-needed reality into it all. My mum used to play the piano and sing in the pub. Her regular standby had none of the internationalism of 'My Gal's a Corker'. It was 'He's just my Bill' i.e. not me but my dad.Bill Kirtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16345949773423764808noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-47240617176483830802019-06-07T11:43:39.432+01:002019-06-07T11:43:39.432+01:00Thanks, both.
Katherine, I find that my particula...Thanks, both.<br /><br />Katherine, I find that my particular musical 'triggers' recall (mostly fondly) specific individuals.<br /><br />Susan, I think someone should write an 'appreciation' of that oaf's special way with language. Our intelligence relationship with the USA is, for example 'incredible' (not very reassuring), his use of the word 'climate' defies analysis, and his narrow range of superlatives brings together totally incompatible nouns and adjectives. English, like everything else, is not safe with him.Bill Kirtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16345949773423764808noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-57622222617964902982019-06-07T11:26:51.422+01:002019-06-07T11:26:51.422+01:00Enjoyed that, Bill. Horrifically, the song my mum ...Enjoyed that, Bill. Horrifically, the song my mum used to sing to me was My Gal's a Corker. Don't know why, but it's never left me. Still sing it sometimes in the folk club, even the line 'she's got a pair of legs, just like two whisky kegs, oh boy, that's where my money goes.' Sort of ditty the Donald would appreciate. I expect. But we can't choose our mothers, can we!Jan Needlehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15823078224282953782noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-46417372546218946072019-06-07T11:10:43.996+01:002019-06-07T11:10:43.996+01:00Great post Bill -- and I share your bemused despai...Great post Bill -- and I share your bemused despair.<br /><br />Did you see where the orange dotard greeted the Irish PM with the words: "“I think [the hard border] will all work out very well, and also for you with your wall, your border. I mean, we have a border situation in the United States, and you have one over here. But I hear it’s going to work out very well here.”Susan Pricehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07738737493756183909noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429560125838989988.post-20937088857466157882019-06-07T09:45:07.629+01:002019-06-07T09:45:07.629+01:00Love the title of this post. It always makes me th...Love the title of this post. It always makes me think of Van Gogh's 'Night Stars', which I have as a framed print on my wall. And yes, music is very powerful as a trigger for memories... 'Bridge Over Troubled Waters' will forever remind me of sharing a flat in a big Georgian house in Bath during my student days, since that's what one of my flatmates used to play over and over while we were all revising for exams. Katherine Robertshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17196712319655603442noreply@blogger.com