tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69591052012-05-26T11:26:14.565-05:00NOTHING SO UNIMPORTANT IS EVER DONE PERFECTLYProfessor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.comBlogger2118125This is an XML content feed. It is intended to be viewed in a newsreader or syndicated to another site.tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-56314779093270281362012-05-25T00:01:00.001-05:002012-05-25T00:01:01.648-05:00

Sharon exists in a universe of her own creation. Glimpse it, Fridays at FITK

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-76425814886695382152012-05-24T00:01:00.000-05:002012-05-23T20:11:38.356-05:00

Running out of my apartment, I dashed across the street to where I saw the figure dash into the Embassy grounds. "Billy... Billy.." No response. The wind was picking up, and I had left my jacket behind."Billy... Billy I know you're there. Come out and talk. You know that I'm here for you? Just like it used to be in school- I'm there when you need me."I thought about jumping the fence, but

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-82580295280303994892012-05-22T00:01:00.002-05:002012-05-22T07:35:08.722-05:00

... or, the one that got away. My cherished Japanese "Bizarre Guitar", a 1965 Guyatone LG-200T, is rare in its native Japan, and extremely so in the U.S. It was never imported here (no 'Made in Japan' markings) and its somewhat outré appearance has kept it from being iconic. Imagine my surprise when I found one for sale on Seattle's Craigslist (pictured at right.) I was tempted to buy it (if

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-35863962227981184262012-05-21T13:09:00.007-05:002012-05-21T22:21:33.266-05:00

Maison des ArtistesAnother installment of Northeast Minneapolis' art crawl event has come and gone. Akin to a traffic accident, so I just had to look. Minute variations on a theme— perhaps the result of too much art education? I found that as I traversed one converted warehouse after another full of unfinished, lifeless canvases and just plain ugly artwork it didn't really bother me. For the most

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-46342242458021785922012-05-18T00:04:00.001-05:002012-05-18T00:04:00.123-05:00

Hats and purses for everyone.Sharon's very own charitable goodness at work.These rodents have never been happier.Gather nuts while ye may, with Sharon at FITK

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-19096639254975509942012-05-17T21:13:00.003-05:002012-05-16T22:20:36.638-05:00

   As I walked down to the old harbor, I was trying to figure out my next move. The city was obviously too small for two Billy Clarksons, I'd have to change my appearance enough so I could go unnoticed, but still be able to impersonate him if I needed to. I could wear glasses and a hide my hair under a hat. Not the best solution but perhaps I could find a costume shop in the morning.    The buzz

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-65485760065128052222012-05-15T00:01:00.001-05:002012-05-14T22:39:45.889-05:00

Anoka, Minnesota, 1989, Photo by C.C.      Just a snapshot from a Nimslo camera. You could get your pictures made with the lenticular grid designed for the camera but I would just print them, cross my eyes, and then focus on middle image to create a 3-D effect.That's me in the back, with one of my sons and his friend in front. I was a cold, rainy day in March, the Rum River is behind us and is

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-92181742865325898082012-05-14T20:07:00.001-05:002012-05-13T20:22:24.932-05:00

I am strong in his hands, I am beyond meOn my own I'm human and I do faultsI do confess I feel you tricklingsDown my shoulders from aboveI turn myself in, I give myself upI volunteer, you own me, I'm yoursYou have to trust it, I'm eternally yoursAll that I gave them, I gave to youSo needy of comfort but too raw to be embracedUndo this privacy and put me in my placeGenerous palmstroke, the hugest

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-16614173464966605782012-05-11T00:03:00.003-05:002012-05-11T00:03:00.299-05:00

Eww.Posin' with Sharon at FITK, Fridays

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-52714782229521910852012-05-10T22:21:00.001-05:002012-05-09T22:00:10.632-05:00

I woke to the sound of a brilliant church bell. I had been sleeping for nearly ten hours. I was starving, fortunately Mrs. Robinson had seen to it that my kitchenette was loaded with food: fruit, bread, various sliced meats, dairy products and some dried soup mixes. Pepsi Max. As I ate, I pulled up the images of Billy that the crew back in Seattle had found. It was Billy all right, but wearing a

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The old band would sometimes rent out a small ballroom above a Northside bar. A half-dozen kegs of cheap beer would be enough to make the crowd of teens happy; the drinking age was 18 then.One time the floor shook so much that the bar owner told the band to stop. He thought the floor would cave in from the wild dancing.After one gig, as we were loading the equipment, we heard a crash.Then we

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-90594027363131567312012-05-07T21:15:00.000-05:002012-05-06T21:46:17.823-05:00

Seeburg Stereomatic 100You know she wiggles like a glow worm Dances like a spinnin' top She got a crazy partner Ya oughta see 'em reel and rock Long as she got a dime The music won't never stop~Roll Over Beethoven, Chuck BerryThe direct descendant of the 19th music boxes, the "Juke" boxes of the twentieth century replaced the mechanical discs (actually a form of multiple-track digital recording)

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-28340050943751244742012-05-04T00:01:00.001-05:002012-05-04T00:01:00.629-05:00

Swat not can your country do for youbut swat you can do for your country.Sharon's just a little too fly, FITK Fridays

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   I found my apartment after a few wrong turns, it was on a quiet street a little above the pond and old part of town. My place was neat, if a bit sterile in the usual Ikean way. It had a proper ethernet connection- reassuring that I could plug in and not broadcast my activities to the whole neighborhood- especially when the Russian embassy was just across the street! Now I could understand the

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-36571111199081827182012-05-01T00:02:00.003-05:002012-05-01T08:49:11.438-05:00

Practicing life.Almost from the time they can talk, girls engage in life-lessons. No teacher needed. Endless hours of constructive play. Dress up, child care, socialization. Boys are years behind. Some never catch up.

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-1416939867743850942012-04-30T17:31:00.006-05:002012-05-26T10:40:46.510-05:00

      by Knut Gjerset,Macmillan, New York, 1924I found this book at a local antique store, that's the dust jacket of my copy pictured above- not bad for an 88 year-old! I was intrigued by its subject of course, but was pleasantly surprised in reading this well-written and comprehensive reference. Knut Gjerset was a professor of History and Norwegian at Luther College in Decorah Iowa from 1902

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-21962696233857260382012-04-27T00:07:00.001-05:002012-04-27T08:06:03.884-05:00

I am a Dragon. So there.Sharon gets her Dragon chow at the pet-food store, I think,therefore: Iams.Used by permission

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-60075771654750151892012-04-26T20:48:00.006-05:002012-04-25T22:28:55.808-05:00

   As I was passing through customs the agent asked where I would be staying. When I told him I would be staying in an apartment on Garðastræti, he smiled and said, "Say hello to the Russians!" I was starting to feel jet lag, and this comment only made me more disoriented. He handed back my passport and then I was in. The terminal was nice, modern and bigger than I had thought. I had picked up

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-43726347548005485772012-04-25T00:08:00.001-05:002012-04-27T21:26:37.767-05:00

Saint Paul, Minnesota, 1970Hell of a drummer.Doubled on Mandolin.Acted a little.Sang a little.He shall be LEVON.Always.

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-38109320224756837162012-04-24T00:09:00.000-05:002012-04-23T20:56:21.763-05:00

Stanisław Skrowaczewski and The Minnesota Orchestra, April 20, 2012More culture, this time on the highest level. Anton Bruckner's symphonies have a limited appeal, even among classical music lovers. Mesmerizing to some, boring to others, they remain enigmatic. No. 8, his final complete symphony, contains the sublime Adagio which is decidedly "trippy". Broad, shimmering sheets of chords alternate

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Dowling Studio LobbyAfter scoring a pair of comps (thanks Reid!) the Weaver and I were able to attend a pair of one-act plays at the Guthrie Theater's Dowling studio. In the intimate "box" setting these new plays showcased 16 young actors from the University of Minnesota's B.F.A. Actor's Training Program. The first play, Victoria Stewart’s In Game or Real, is a modern riff on Shakespeare's The

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-86266837969572150932012-04-20T00:06:00.000-05:002012-04-21T14:57:05.208-05:00

Sharon flitting and fitting in. Pamper yourself with Sharon, Fridays. Used by permission.

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-91275709479732836162012-04-19T00:04:00.008-05:002012-04-18T22:14:14.029-05:00

   The sky was beginning to lighten a bit in the east as we approached the Icelandic coastline. Beneath the scudding clouds a solitary light shone from a house perched on a rocky jetty. I wondered what type of person could live there at "the end of the world" in such apparent isolation. But the world was different now, certainly different from what it was like twenty years ago, when there was no

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-83086578655827722812012-04-17T21:43:00.003-05:002012-04-16T22:13:56.275-05:00

A good way to to produce an "old" looking picture is to start with an old camera. Step one: I had scrounged a "Cerio Firenze", an Italian 35mm Leica wanna-be, from a camera store which was glad to be rid of it. It was a dreadful thing— a piece of iron bent to form the body, a 50mm f8 (!) lens in a crude brass barrel containing a flip-flop spring shutter, a simple advance knob and a top and bottom

Professor Battyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09802171986501104683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959105.post-34028571429591731382012-04-16T17:25:00.001-05:002012-04-15T18:47:46.316-05:00

For the last twenty-five years or so there has been a photographic swap meet held twice a year in my metro area. It is the home of orphan cameras- cameras that have outlived their usefulness, even if they are still perfectly useable. It has been dwindling in scope every year, the digital revolution in photography has pretty much killed the market in film cameras. The older digital cameras are

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