We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I encountered something I had never seen before, at a Christmas party last Saturday night - a home pipe organ.
Our host's two-manual organ console was built into the wall of their roughly 24X24' foyer, with the array of pipes located under the curved staircase on the other side of the foyer. The organ had been installed when the gracious but unpretentious home was built, 1926.
I had not known that pipe organs had been a hot item for prosperous home entertainment. But if funeral parlors had them, why not? The organ in question had a player feature, and our host had boxes of player rolls for it.
Naturally, they had hired an organist to play Christmas carols with all joining in and filling the east and west hallways with merriment, projecting the words on the walls for those with dementia. This organ was manufactured by Skinner Organ Co., Boston.
This good fun prompted me to learn a little more about pipe organs. Until the invention of the telephone switchoard, the pipe organ was the most complex manufactured product. Here's a wiki history of the pipe organ. Like most things, it goes back to the Greeks, who cleverly aligned pipes with a hydraulic bellows.
Electricity made it possible to distance the pipes and their complex inner workings from the console, and to provide a steady supply of wind (fans) for the pipes without people pumping on the bellows in a closet
To my delight, I found a home pipe organ for sale on the internet. Even if I could afford it, I doubt I could afford to have it installed. Also, I can't play a keyboard worth a darn. It is called "lack of talent," and lacks of talents suck if I may say so. I know: I lack many of them
In the absence of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and a bunch of pipers, Mrs. BD will have to bang out Auld Lang Syne herself on ye olde pianny tomorrow afternoon for a sing-along as the extended BD family gives thanks, but, for the first time, with my parents gone. Lots of people sleeping over - hope we can find enough rooms and beds at the BD Manor.
Mrs. BD can still find her pianny brain when she wants to. There is nothing like a Steinway to inspire them fingers because the machine fills the house with glorious sound, missed notes and all. I like the missed notes.
Our Thanksgiving tradition is to always invite friends along with family, especially friends and acquaintances without jolly and festive plans, but not so much of that this year even though we love having people around the place. There remains a funereal atmosphere in the family. These lyrics are more appropriate for the situation than I might have imagined. If any one of us can get through it without breaking down, I'll be amazed.
It is true that Bobbie Burns stole the lyrics, but he said he had done so.
Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, and old lang syne?
CHORUS: For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup! and surely I’ll buy mine! And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have run about the slopes, and picked the daisies fine ; But we’ve wandered many a weary foot, since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have paddled in the stream, from morning sun till dine; But seas between us broad have roared since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
And there’s a hand my trusty friend! And give me a hand o’ thine! And we’ll take a right good-will draught, for auld lang syne.
It could be a Maggie's theme song. I thought the lines that followed were "I love the girls and the girls love me." My Mom used to sing it as "I like the boys and the boys like me."
AKA "Boom-de re". Probably an 1890s whorehouse song, later a music hall tune. (Various lyrics at that link.) Here's Mary Martin around 1943 (a decade after giving birth to Larry Hagman):
Tallis' "40 Part Motet" - officially Spem in alium numquam habui (c.1556) is a Renaissance motet, not a medieval motet. Thus no real rhythm, but plenty of flow.
Mrs. BD and I had to hustle down to The Cloisters after church to hear their special installation of Tallis' most famous work. One speaker per voice - 40 speakers - and you walk all around and hear each individual voice, or stand in the middle to hear the blend in the acoustically-superb old stone Spanish apse. We did it 2 1/2 times.
It is a popular event. Most people listen to it twice.
A friend of mine sent me this link with the comment "This is the best song of the summer." I opened it, expecting to be blown away. I was, though I have to admit not in the sense I expected. It definitely got some sideways glances from the rest of my family while I listened.
Meanwhile, my friend was kind enough to pass this along to me, as well. A sorbet for the ears, I suppose. Math makes good music. Fibonacci numbers are a sequence beginning with 0 and 1, then each following number is comprised of the previous two added together. Thus the sequence is 0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13....and so on. Fibonacci numbers are closely related to Phi, or the golden ratio, which nature follows very closely. Items which utilize the golden ratio are aesthetically pleasing.
I don't play an instrument, and I suffer from tinnitus, but I know when I hear something I enjoy.
Leroy Anderson (1908-1975) was an American composer of short, light concert pieces, many of which were introduced by the Boston Pops Orchestra under the direction of Arthur Fiedler. As with all his other compositions, Leroy Anderson wrote The Typewriter for orchestra, completing the work on October 9, 1950.
This particular orchestration was performed in a June 12, 2011 concert by members of the National Orchestra and Chorus of Spain in Madrid. The (typewriter) soloist is Alfredo Anaya. Watch his expressions and actions throughout the video...wonderful!
Many of the younger crowd who may see this video won't remember the old typewriter. But we geezers remember it well. That was a long time ago.
A different 
