Writerquake

Old Postcard Wednesday—Shore of the Pacific (the Fukushima activism edition)

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 30 May 2012 10:07:00 +0000

Fish - Library of Congress Collection

Bluefin Tuna Radiation: Is There A Health Risk?
The Huffington Post |

Posted: 05/29/2012

Bluefin Tuna, caught in California last August, showed radiation levels that were ten times the norm, according to a new paper from the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences journal. Scientists believe that the radiation -- in the form of the isotopes, caesium-137 and caesium-134 -- came from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster that began in March of 2011.

The rates of caesium-137 and caesium-134 were elevated about 3 percent, compared to previous years in muscle samples taken from 15 two-year-old bluefin tuna caught off the coast of San Diego, Calif.

"That's definitely the mark of Fukushima," David J. Brenner, director of the Center for Radiological Research at Columbia University and a leading expert on the nuclear power plant meltdown who was not involved in the study, told The Huffington Post. "Most likely, the [tuna] would have eaten some contaminated fish off the coast of Japan and then swam across the Pacific ocean."

“That’s a big ocean. To swim across it and still retain these radionuclides is pretty amazing,” lead researcher Nicholas Fisher told the AP. . .

Kanbara - Fisherman Workers - Library of Congress Collection

30-minute Broadcast on Fukushima: “If anything happens, this is not just about the end of Japan, probably start of the end of the world” (VIDEO HERE)

Fisherman Fishing - Library of Congress Collection

Senator on National TV: I’m so concerned about Unit 4 fuel pool — Tepco’s plan must be sped up — “It’s very clear there are substantial health questions that have to be addressed now” (VIDEO below)

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Former Fukushima worker turned whisteblower, has reported TEPCO has been falsifying their reports.

Sardines - Library of Congress Collection

Fukushima Spent Fuel Pool 4 Risks U.S. Health and Safety

Read excellent fact sheet containing background, many links for additional information - plus sign petition at Change.org HERE.

Mag 119 — the dancer

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Mon, 28 May 2012 11:51:00 +0000

Her beloved apartment was a six-floor walk-up in one of the older buildings near the park. The stone masons who toiled to craft the impressive slabs that distinguished it from the nearby structures composed of brick and wood were the same craftsmen who built the grand, sweeping curved drive leading to the marble conservatory across the river. Her great-grandfather was one of them.

"How will I know when I've made it to the top?" she had asked her father once when she was a nine-year-old ballet student dreaming of fame.

She remembered her father's reply. "It isn't important how high you go, Sweetie. What's important is that you live your life so that you can always hold your head high."

Now, years later, she enjoyed nothing more than gazing out from her window over the tops of the row of cherry trees at dusk, admiring the angles and patterns they cast on her small dance studio across the street.

Written for The Mag: Mag 119 that inspired with the above photo prompt (House At Dusk, 1935, Edward Hopper).

Critique and Craft: Stream-of-Consciousness Writing • Ghosts

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Fri, 25 May 2012 19:08:00 +0000

Ghosts

I am collecting ghosts.

Favorite cat was by the porcelain goose on the top

shelf near The Bumper Book, the book that holds

the ghost of my toddler self. I walked by and

smiled that smile that goes inside to me

and not out to the world. Another day, one was

in the bathroom sitting by the Italian sun bust— right

where she sat for my favorite picture of her—white

Feather-fluff, tail wrapped around her toes.

She seems porcelain now too.

There at the same sink I felt a touch so tender
on my elbow tonight—even turned to address my man

but there was no one there.

Another message from an unknown sender.

Mama lives in my laptop, the place

she’d love most if she were still alive.

I’d show her all the tricks and she’d have the

Web mastered in no time, like she mastered

dealing cards, then Business, and quilting, calligraphy,

the art of love, and anything else she put her mind to.

She had no master.

Do I?

Of course not. I am her daughter, the one who cried

in fear of shadows in my bedroom late at night and

nestled against her breast as she held me close—

never-ever saying that I did not

see what I saw.

MLydiaM ~ May 2012

Written for Critique and Craft—Stream-of-Consciousness Writing at dVerse Poets.

Old Postcard Wednesday—I Like the 70s

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 23 May 2012 09:20:00 +0000

The artistic flair on the back of this postcard intrigued me as much as the scene of the groovy girl with the Farrah Fawcett hairstyle on the front. Although mailed in 1981, the postcard is all 70s and was marketed by the seller with the title: I Like the 70s. I looked for information that would explain the unique coupon-like heart printed on the back but could find nothing.

Cecami postcard scenes, it appears, were numbered (this one being #1318) but I could not find a history, nor could I determine if/when Cecami publishers stopped producing postcards. In a listing of Italian businesses I found this info:

Company Name: CECAMI
    Number of Employees: 11-50
    Main Products: Greeting cards
    Country: ITALY
    Address: 38, Via Valtorta 20127 Milano (MI) - ITALY

The Cecami website does not mention postcard publishing along with their greeting cards and wedding announcements. The following is from the website:

CECAMI in Fantasia ...... Greetings

In this simple but effective slogan that encloses the base ingredient for almost a century of its products, CECAMI.

The high quality of products and the continuing search for original solutions, are the characteristics of the different lines of greeting cards that are offered each year.

The market, especially in recent years, has rewarded the efforts of the company confirming the high popularity of the style Cecami. The special attention paid to changing market and to the changing needs of customers, you can say that tickets Cecami are equal to any occasion.

After Dick Clark died someone mentioned that he had said in an interview that Disco was his favorite style of music. I about gagged, but then that is only indicative of my lack of appreciation for Disco. It just was not my thing so I listened to the plethora of alternative music produced during the Disco era. I did go to one Disco club with a girlfriend.....once, and I mention that only so you won't think that I didn't give it a try.

Since the recent deaths of Donna Summer and Robin Gibb I've heard both them and their musical styles grouped together in commentaries and tributes as people marveled and mourned. Then I found this excellent article in Forbes that helped me to understand why it was that I could have liked a few Bee Gees songs very much while being apathetic to Donna Summer's music. The article is short so I am posting it here with link at bottom:

Robin Gibb, RIP: BeeGees Were NOT A Disco Group
--by Roger Friedman

I’m very sad about Donna Summer passing away. She was the Queen of Disco. And her records– from “Last Dance” to “MacArthur Park” to “Bad Girls,” “Hot Stuff,” etc are classics. Her untimely death is a tragedy.

But too many people are lumping her in with Robin Gibb, who passed away yesterday at age 62. The Bee Gees were not a disco group. They happened to have success during the disco era because of “Saturday Night Fever.” But they were actually a British folk-pop group who evolved into something more interesting: a blue eyed soul group.

Their original phase of hits like “Words,” “Holiday,” “I Started a Joke”–were pure pop. They were right in the realm of the Hollies and the Kinks. In 1970-71 they re-emerged with two gigantic hits, “Lonely Days” and “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart.” The latter has been covered by so many R&B stars–not disco. The Al Green version is tremendous. As well, another Bee Gees song from their early days, “To Love Somebody,” is a favorite of R&B singers. It’s also been covered by the greats.

It was in 1997 when they teamed with Jerry Wexler, Tom Dowd and Arif Mardin at Atlantic, that the Bee Gees found their true calling. “Jive Talking,” “Nights on Broadway,” “Fanny (Be Tender with My Love)” are simply brilliant.

Because of the “Saturday Night Fever” movie they were drafted into the Robert Stigwood Organization. But everything from that album, plus “Tragedy” and “How Deep Is Your Love”–the latter a mini masterpiece–is a product of that Miami studio time with the Atlantic geniuses. It all stems from that.

What a terrible shame that Barry Gibb has lost all of his brothers, even Andy, the youngest. The Bee Gees music was so profound for pop, so ebullient with an underscore of sorrow. They deserved a better legacy. Robin and Maurice were always in the background but they made the group. Their loss is our loss. I hope when they see George Harrison and John Lennon and Brian Jones and Keith Moon they can all have a good laugh.

Anyway, find James Carr singing “To Love Somebody.” That will set you straight.

[Source: Forbes]

Hmmmm. I thought the Bee Gees sang the song fine themselves! Here they are in 1971. If the I Like the 70s postcard girl saw this concert she would have been quite young at the time, possibly traveling with her parents in Australia where this concert took place.....

***

By the end of the decade the postcard girl might likely have been at this concert with friends, dancing in the crowd in her bellbottom pants. I wonder if she brought them out from a hiding place in her closet recently, just to look at and remember......

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Mag 118 — the yellow clown

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Mon, 21 May 2012 10:39:00 +0000

What I loved most about that clown
was that — out of everyone there
from the joyful crowd in my town —
he rode his unicycle to where
I sat because he noticed my frown.

I was just a tear-stained tyke
in a lonely sea of laughter.
In front of me he dropped his bike —
a trapeze swung high in a rafter.
His eyes expressed we were much alike.

He wiped a tear off his kind face
then folded his fingers with his thumb.
When he opened his fist he held a vase —
three buds for me: gold, white, and plum.
Then he disappeared without a trace.

Written for The Mag: Mag 118 that inspired with the above photo prompt (The Circus With the Yellow Clown, 1967, Marc Chagall).

OPW--a GIFcard

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 16 May 2012 07:11:00 +0000

GIF via ARG!

I apologize if you arrived looking for Old Postcard Wednesday. The weekly old postcard is missing this week because I am extremely behind in reading posts at other blogs. So instead of researching, I am going to make the rounds to as many of your blogs as possible. If I don't make it to your blog please forgive and know that it was my hope to do so!

This decision has been very freeing......why, I am practically giddy and not at all like Wednesday's Child:

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for its living,
But the child that's born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

I thought I was born on a Wednesday, but discovered my birthday was on Tuesday instead while looking for this poem. Check out the Ultimate Day of the Week Calculator to determine your birth day.

See you next week for OPW (I wouldn't think of taking two weeks off in a row).

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Mag 117 — forgiveness

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Mon, 14 May 2012 11:53:00 +0000

Sitting on either side of Manuela at the table, both boys were thinking the same thing. She was the latest arrival at the center and would be asked by the missionaries to offer the blessing before all the children were allowed to eat. She seemed in shock and detached and they wanted to warn her about the rule.

Hoi said, "You will be asked if you want to say grace before the meal."

Banjo added in a whisper, "It will not be a request, but an order."

Manuela smelled the fishy broth and sweet fruit in front of them. She was no longer starving because she had been given hard bread, rice, and juice while en route to the center, but the thought of fresh food made her stomach rumble. The sound reminded her of nighttime warfare in the hills miles from her father's house. She sighed, remembering how the faraway rumbling grew closer and closer, then shivered thinking about the end of her world.

"I will do what I must to survive," she told them. Her words held forgiveness for the boys who three months before had slaughtered her family while she hid under her cot — boys as young as Hoi and Banjo.

Written for The Mag: Mag 117 that inspired with the above photo prompt
(The Meal, Paul Gauguin, 1891).

Critique and Craft: Machine Dreams • Wings

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Sat, 12 May 2012 00:19:00 +0000

image via Google

Wings

Awkwardly, stubbornly, you take your flight
        and blotch the sky with your image.
Hungrily you roar a defiance
at more accessible lands,
        a defense of space
                fought in futile scrambled timing.
You eat the clouds,
poisoning the rain they keep
so they dump on us a dead apologetic storm.

Will farmers look on fields of bleached weeds
as science searches new forms of food? —
and will cities branch out farther
in frantic nesting to avoid your thunder? —
and will beaches no longer sing
as ozone protection becomes a myth
and one in four carries oozing sores?

Ah! But what we have gained
by allowing you places to settle . . .
One uncomfortable diplomatic gesture
        never put to vote
has quieted the discord for a sigh
and we live another nightmare.

With weeping eyes and choking breath
        and with unceasing admiration for wings
we hear you first through palm-cupped ears,
                then see you scamper across the dome.

Nursing remaining health
some will ignore your birth —
others will save the thousands
necessary for your tempting luxury moment spree.

But I curse with useless disdain
the smiling Concorde.

                                MLydiaM ~ 1977

Written over three decades ago — in all seriousness then, I might add! — I am submitting this old poem for Critique and Craft—Machine Dreams at dVerse Poets. Thank you to Chazinator for the wildly fun prompt. Although my youthful loathing of the Concorde mellowed some with time, I always did think it was a
Machine Nightmare!

To refresh your memory about the Concorde, see Wikipedia and numerous other sites. Here are key stats from Wikipedia:

             Concorde
Role     Supersonic airliner
First flight     2 March 1969
Introduction     21 January 1976
Retired     26 November 2003
Status     Retired from service

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Old Postcard Wednesday--Deception Pass Bridge, Puget Sound, Washington

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 09 May 2012 10:10:00 +0000

First, let's get our bearings on the location:

Puget Sound is a sound in the U.S. state of Washington and part of the Salish Sea. It is a complex estuarine system of interconnected marine waterways and basins, with one major and one minor connection to the Strait of Juan de Fuca and the Pacific Ocean — Admiralty Inlet being the major connection and Deception Pass being the minor. Flow through Deception Pass accounts for about 2% of the total tidal exchange between Puget Sound and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Puget Sound extends approximately 100 miles (160 km) from Deception Pass in the north to Olympia, Washington in the south. Its average depth is 205 feet (62 m) and its maximum depth, off Point Jefferson between Indianola and Kingston, is 930 feet (280 m). The depth of the main basin, between the southern tip of Whidbey Island and Tacoma, Washington, is approximately 600 feet (180 m).

The term "Puget Sound" is used not just for the body of water but also the general region centered on the sound. [Source: Wikipedia]

Next, let's watch something for some historical background with a surprising twist from a videographer's point of view (video runs 6:10 interesting minutes) .......

Whidbey Island Deception Pass Bridge, The Bridge Of Death -
Video by Shawn Cain via Metacafe (Funny bloopers are a click away)

Here is another way of knowing Deception Pass....from a poet's voice:

TIDE POOLS IN DECEPTION PASS
—by Karen Swenson

A child's microcosm of monsters—
tide pools linger behind the sea in Deception Pass.
Who's the ogre in your ladle-dip of rock
surrounded by bruised knuckle ridges of mussels?

The hermit crabs hand out of their orphaned shells.
Are they curious women at slum windows?
Or only epigrams for adolescents
on how to outgrow philosophies?

Sea anemones—underwater dandelions -
are a forest of faceless women
with long hair for Don Juan to adore.
The ultimate in retractable females
they become stumps at a touch.

Do you prefer the Jonah crabs
who do-si-do invisible partners
on the points of their claws, eyes hanging out
like Christmas balls on barren trees?

Or would you leave the masquerade of mannerisims,
these calcarious individuals—the animals are one by one—
to build a mortal fortification,
a sand castle without tenants, waiting
for the eviction of the sea in Deception Pass.

.....and from a photographer's eye:

Deception Pass Bridge by ~midnightfaery on deviantART

This is a snippet from a post by a travel writer for Sights in Seattle (click link for full post and great photos):

The Deception pass bridge connects Whidbey island to Fidalgo Island which form the gateway to the San Juan islands. This bridge falls on the western part of I-20, also known as the north cascade scenic highway. We had planned to visit the North Cascades National Park and while researching , found out that I-20 runs on the south end of the park and is also referred to as the scenic highway. So, when we traced I-20 to the west of the park, it went over many islands. Zooming in on the route in Google Earth, deception pass bridge emerged out of nowhere and looked awesome. So, we took a deroute to fit in this place also into our itinerary. We were glad we did so :-)

Evidently, the travel writer and family did not consult Google Earth in early 2011 when a certain glitch made the bridge look not so welcoming! The Daily Mail described the situation on March 24, 2011:

Meltdown at Google Earth: New 3D function goes awry as bridges flop like
a Salvador Dali painting
Warped and mangled beyond recognition, they look like a computerised version of a Salvador Dali painting.

But these pictures are not the work of a Surrealist - they are what happened when Google tried to tinker with its images of Earth.

Technicians have added elevation to the Google Earth tool but due to glitches the change had a bizarre effect on some of the world’s most famous roads and bridges.

The 746ft tall Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco has been made as thin as paper and stuck to the surface of the water beneath it.

In other cases, bridges no longer go over ravines - instead they roll down the sides and go along the bottom before coming back up the other cliff face.

The images were created when Google tried to extrapolate 2D images on to a 3D landscape but did not get it quite right.

They were spotted by artist and programmer Clement Valla who has trawled Earth to collect a string of weird sights.

The ‘Postcards From Google Earth, Bridges’ are 60 images from the virtual globe which show what happens when 2D and 3D don’t get along.

Check out the linked article above to read the rest of it and to see some of the eerie images. This is the Google-Dali image of Deception Pass Bridge!

No backbone: The Deception Pass Bridge in Washington could prove difficult to cross

To close, let's go straight for the historical viewpoint. I am quoting only some key parts from History of Deception Pass Bridge by Elizabeth Guss and you can complete the reading HERE.

The Deception Pass Bridge began as a dream, became a convenience, and developed into an icon. Curving gracefully between Fidalgo and Whidbey Islands, it crowns the most visited state park in Washington. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1982, this bridge is recognized for its engineering and the elegant architecture that complements the scenic and geologic wonder of Deception Pass. Its history brings together the place, the people, and the popular park that draws visitors from around the world. . .

. . . This great achievement began with an idea from a New England seaman, Captain George Morse, who sailed through the narrow, turbulent waterway called Deception Pass and eventually settled in the tiny village of Oak Harbor on Whidbey Island. Pointing at the two promontories of Whidbey and Fidalgo in the 1880s, he told his children that "one day we will have a bridge across this pass with Pass Island as a center support." Fifty years later, with the persistent work of citizens and legislators, and the public works support of the Great Depression, the bridge became a reality.

. . . About 20,000 cars now cross the bridge 180 feet above its swirling water every day. Dramatic and intriguing, the bridge is the Pass's great connector. It links three islands together and interweaves history, recreation, commerce, nature and more. . .

. . . Carved by glaciers, the steep cliffs and sharp edges of the islands create natural barriers and divert tides flowing from the Strait of Juan de Fuca past Whidbey and Fidalgo Islands. Deep, mist-shrouded forests add a touch of mystery to the appearance. Tidal flow can be extremely rough and low tides create standing waves, huge whirlpools and roiling eddies. With the small islands (Ben Ure, Strawberry and Pass) between them, Whidbey and Fidalgo Islands appeared to many early explorers to be sides of a small bay or perhaps the mouth of a river. It probably looked too dangerous to sail into the waters of the pass. . .

. . . European and U.S. settlers arrived in the mid-19th century and the pass entered a new era. Smugglers of people and goods found the waters and islands of Deception Pass good for their nefarious business dealings. With steep cliffs and craggy edges, the pass appeared to have strategic military value. In 1866, more than a thousand acres were set aside for a military reservation that was partially fortified during World War I. From 1910-14, a prison rock quarry operated on the eastern side of Fidalgo Island with barges taking the quarried rock to the developing Seattle waterfront. In the 1920s, the military sold its land to Washington State who set it aside for a park in 1923. Small boats ferried travelers between Fidalgo and Whidbey over the swirling waters of the Pass. To call the ferry, they banged a saw with a mallet, sat back and waited.

By 1900, the idea of a bridge increasingly gained popularity. . . a model was built and displayed at the Alaska-Yukon Expedition in Seattle (1909). In 1918, the bridge was promoted as a necessary war effort and in 1921 state legislators wrote an appeal to Congress citing its military importance. The American Legion helped form the Deception Pass Bridge Association which encouraged state legislators to pass the 1929 Bridge Bill. The bridge's time was coming. . .

. . .During the Great Depression, the Public Works Administration sent the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) to build park facilities and bridge approaches. . . About 200 young men built kitchen shelters, ranger residences, roadways, trails, restrooms and the log railings along the highway. In less than one year, from August 1934 to July 31, 1935, the bridge fabricator Puget Construction Company of Seattle built the two-span bridge. CCC workers helped build the road bed leading to the bridge.

Poetics: 'OUR Music' • music definition

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Mon, 07 May 2012 01:12:00 +0000

image by Rarinda Prakarsa

music definition

Music: the sound of one hand clapping
with the whole of the world--
      the rootin' (w)rappin' tap root,
our Sound foundation
      built on rock, contatarianthemaj-
      orhythminorhapsody and melody,
in harmony with soul, tugging
heartstrings, taking many bows--
the Wow factor-y
of the cosmos.

                                                   MLydiaM ~ May 2012

{I apologize all over the damn place to Stuart McPherson, who is our host for this wonderful prompt and am correcting post-post!}
Written for Poetics—'OUR Music' at dVerse Poets. Thank you to ~~Brian Miller~~ Stuart McPherson of poemsofhateandhope for this prompt, which is a glorious essay on music. Bravo, Stu!

(Please click link for prompt description and information, along with links to other poems about 'OUR Music'.)

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FormForAll: Clarion Sonnet • skinning genes

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Sat, 05 May 2012 00:46:00 +0000

Being And Seeker by Elena Ray

skinning genes

Watching this happen to you from afar
is not just distressing but right on par

with not watching me when it happened here.
Caused by stress you might say but I do fear

that, like our height and our brown hair, these screams
pulsing inside us came straight from our genes.

You can choose, of course, to just let it ride
but depression can't be taken in stride--

nor the despair of the weakening soul
that searches for the elusive loophole,

nor the task of the body to survive
the booze and the pills flying this nosedive.

Come back to yourself, sweet being of Light,
before you succumb to your last midnight.

MLydiaM ~ May 2012

Written for dVerse Poets Pub FormForAll, where Samuel Peralta's (aka Semaphore1) stimulating prompt inspires us to compose a Clarion Sonnet (please click link for description and information, along with links to other Clarion Sonnets----and certainly do not miss the one written by Semaphore himself).

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Old Postcard Wednesday--Ferry Building, San Francisco

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 02 May 2012 10:40:00 +0000

The Ferry Building Marketplace website featuring the Ferry Building history has a quote by Herb Caen, columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, that pretty much sums it all up: "A famous city's most famous landmark." The link takes you to some great photos of the marvelous Ferry Building, both inside and outside shots. I think it is worth the click to see more.

The photo on this old postcard was obviously taken prior to the construction of the Embarcadero Freeway (more below), which the Ferry Building website explains tersely in one line while discussing the dark days of the building: "To cast the once prominent structure into further obscurity, the double-deck Embarcadero Freeway was built across the face of the Ferry Building in 1957, and remained for 35 years."

Some history from Wikipedia:

The San Francisco Ferry Building is a terminal for ferries that travel across the San Francisco Bay, a marketplace, and also has offices, located on The Embarcadero in San Francisco, California. . . .

Designed by the New York architect A. Page Brown in the Beaux Arts style in 1892, the ferry building was completed in 1898. At its opening, it was the largest project undertaken in the city up to that time. Brown designed the clock tower after the 12th-century Giralda bell tower in Seville, Spain, and the entire length of the building on both frontages is based on an arched arcade.

With decreased use after bridges were constructed across the bay to carry railroad traffic, in the 1950s, the building was adapted for office use and its public spaces were broken up in an unsympathetic manner. In 2002, a restoration and renovation were undertaken to redevelop the entire complex. The 660-foot long Great Nave was restored, together with its height and materials. A marketplace was created for the ground floor, the former baggage handling area. The second and third floors were adapted for office and Port Commission use. During daylight, on every full and half-hour, the clock bell chimes portions of the Westminster Quarters. The ferry terminal is a designated San Francisco landmark and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

:::
The well-built reinforced building with its arched arcades survived both the 1906 and the 1989 earthquakes with little damage. . . A large pedestrian bridge spanned the Embarcadero in front of the Ferry building until the late 1940s, after which pedestrians were not well treated for decades.

Until the completion of the Bay Bridge and Golden Gate Bridge in the 1930s, which began to carry railroad traffic, the Ferry Building was the second busiest transit terminal in the world, second only to London's Charing Cross Station. After the bridges opened, and the new Key System trains began running to the East Bay from the Transbay Terminal in 1939, passenger ferry use fell sharply. In the second half of the twentieth century, although the Ferry Building and its clock tower remained a part of the San Francisco skyline, the condition of the building interior declined with changes. Beginning in the 1950s, unsympathetic renovations installed a mezzanine level, broke up the grand space of the Great Nave, and partitioned the ticketing counters and waiting room areas into office space. The formerly grand public space was reduced to a narrow and dark corridor, through which travelers passed en route to the piers. Passengers were made to wait for ferries on outdoor benches, and the ticketing booths were moved to the pier.

With the construction in the late 1950s of the Embarcadero Freeway, which passed right in front of the Ferry Building, views of the once-prominent landmark from Market Street were greatly obscured. Pedestrian access was treated as an afterthought, and people disliked having to use the second-class space. They were cut off from the waterfront.

Due to extensive damage in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, the double-decker elevated freeway was demolished afterward. It was replaced with a ground-level boulevard, which reconnected a significant portion of San Francisco's historic waterfront and the rest of the city. Access was restored to Justin Herman Plaza and the foot of Market Street, of which the Ferry Building had been such an integral part for so many decades.

I found a remarkable photo online that shows what it was like when the Embarcadero Freeway ran in front of the Ferry Building.

image via Flickr by Telstar Logistics

Hideous, isn't it? I wanted to know more about the destruction of the Embarcadero Freeway, the action that was key in the renaissance of the San Francisco Waterfront that includes the Ferry Building. I found info at a great site produced by the Preservation Institute, titled Removing Freeways - Restoring Cities. Their page on the Embarcadero Freeway (see link) is fascinating reading, most definitely, and also features some great before-and-after shots taken at the Ferry Building site. It was shocking to find out that Herb Caen (quoted at the beginning of this post) was initially against the removal of the freeway when it was a hot topic in 1986. Then nature voted!

From the Removing Freeways article:

It seemed that the movement to remove the freeway had failed, that the idea was dead. Then, on October 17, 1989, the 7.1 magnitude Loma Prieta earthquake caused sections of the Bay Bridge and of Oakland’s Cypress Freeway to collapse, and it damaged San Francisco’s Embarcadero and Central Freeways so severely that they had to be closed. The Embarcadero Freeway had been retrofitted for earthquake safety during the early 1980s, so it still stood, but it was so severely damaged that it could not be used.

After this freeway was closed, traffic was snarled temporarily, but drivers adjusted in a short time by using alternative routes and public transportation.

Freeway opponents began a new push to remove the freeway rather than repairing it, and they succeeded now that freeway backers could no longer say that the traffic displaced from the freeway would create gridlock on local streets. Herb Caen changed his position and supported removing the freeway rather than repairing it. The main opponents were Chinatown merchants, who claimed that their business declined by 15 to 40 percent after the earthquake.

February 27, 1991, Mayor Agnos struck the symbolic first blow to begin the demolition of the freeway. After leaving office, Agnos remarked that “The best decision I made as mayor was to demolish that freeway. It removed that scar and opened up one of the most important parts of this city for development.”

The San Francisco Chronicle commented on June 17, 2000, in a story about the ceremony dedicating the improved Embarcadero boulevard, that despite the fierce debates about the issue, “A decade later, it's hard to find anyone who thinks ripping down the freeway was a bad idea.”

Learning that there is actually a movement dedicated to removing urban freeways has, for me, been the most interesting aspect in working on this post. Above, I linked specifically to the article about the Embarcadero Freeway, but if you are interested in reading more about the movement itself go to the home page to read more background and to find links to projects in various cities. I was amazed to learn that Portland, Oregon, was a pioneer city in transforming the blight of a major urban highway, built right on the waterfront into what is now beautiful Tom McCall Waterfront Park. I moved to Oregon in 1976 after the miserable-looking Harbor Drive had been removed, so seeing the pictures of what Portland looked at before I arrived was a real shock for me. Click here for the article on the removal of Harbor Drive in Portland. I am just really jazzed about the concept of removing freeways to restore cities and I hope it is an idea that will catch on, especially in relation to discussions about how best to tackle the enormous challenges concerning our decaying transportation infrastructure.

Poetics: Vampires • eve

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 11:07:00 +0000

Darkest Hour by Annequins Design

eve

He beat her, he beat their young son
      when the sun was set,
when the blinds were shuttered
and the neighbors were blinded.

He drew their blood early in the eve,
his adam's apple throbbing in rhythm
to the thrusting of his teeth
      bearing
      down,
to the thrashing of his fists
      flailing to the beat
as his black eyes screwed them
into their nighttime hellhole.

Come morn, the family went about
ordinary business as he commanded.
It was at work I would see her--
      so elusive, so pale,
long red hair dry and disheveled--
sometimes walking too slowly, often
dressed with too much cover
for the season. What then
was her reason
      for sweeping her hair away
from the love bite ripening on her neck?
To convince us that their love
was not stale?

Perhaps it was a sign of warning,
      but not a cry for help.
It was already too late
to save her.

                                            MLydiaM ~ April 2012

Written for Poetics—Vampires at dVerse Poets. Thank you to Blue Flute for this prompt that brought back memories of a co-worker who became a good friend. This poem ends the way it does because of the topic. My friend did, in reality, find the courage to divorce that man and create a new life for herself.

.

Found in translation

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 09:58:00 +0000

Three translations of:

Remembrance
By Rainer Maria Rilke (1875–1926)

YOU wait, with memories drifting,
For the something that made life blessed,
The mighty, the rare, the uplifting,
The awaking of stones, the rifting
That opened deeps unguessed.

The books in your shelves are staring
Golden and brown, as you muse
On the lands you crossed in your faring,
On pictures, on visions unsparing
Of women you had to lose.

All at once it comes back: now you know!
Trembling you rise, all aware
Of a year once long ago
With its grandeur and fear and prayer.

                    --Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916.

2.

And you wait, keep waiting for that one thing
which would infinitely enrich your life:
the powerful, uniquely uncommon,
the awakening of dormant stones,
depths that would reveal you to yourself.

In the dusk you notice the book shelves
with their volumes in gold and in brown;
and you think of far lands you journeyed,
of pictures and of shimmering gowns
worn by women you conquered and lost.

And it comes to you all of a sudden:
That was it! And you arise, for you are
aware of a year in your distant past
with its fears and events and prayers.

                   --translated by Albert Ernest Flemming

3.

And you wait, expecting that one thing
that your life endlessly shall multiply;
that one powerful, immense thing,
the awakening of stones,
depths, coming back to you.
Volumes of gold and brown emerge
as dawn out of the bookshelves;
and you reflect upon lands traveled through,
on images, on the garments
of women lost once again.

And then suddenly you realize: that was it.
You rise up and before you stands
the fear and shape and prayer
of a year gone by.

--translated by Cliff Crego

Old Postcard Wednesday--Six Weeks in Nevada • "The Cure"

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 09:43:00 +0000

When I was in grammar (elementary) school in Reno it was not uncommon for a "new boy" or "new girl" to show up in classes. Those who were not "new" at the beginning of the school year and who, instead, were introduced at varying times throughout the school year tended to stay with us for a fairly short amount of time. Around six weeks, as a matter of fact.

My mother explained to me the six-weeks residency requirement for obtaining a divorce in Nevada, a story that I just took in stride. I do not remember the topic ever being discussed in class in any grade, which was why I was very interested to find that the Washoe County K-12 School District (my home county in Nevada) has an actual 11th-grade American History Project lesson under Post WWII trends titled "Getting Reno-vated." It is one of the lessons found under Teaching American History Project ... The Twentieth Century, 1945-1990, in which "Students understand the shift of international relationships and power as well as the significant developments in American culture." The link to that particular list of lessons is found here. The actual lesson plan for this 11th grade, 105-minute block period can be read in full HERE (and I highly recommend, as it is impressive). I am including some pertinent history from "Getting Reno-vated" by Shawn J. Lear below:

Introduction:
In the wake of WWII, as in the aftermath of most wars, Americans returned their focus to the home front with renewed vigor. For the first time in nearly two decades, Americans seemed to have nothing immediate to worry about-no economic depression, as the economy was booming from wartime production, no foreign aggressors, as they had been dealt with, and seemingly nothing to fear, except maybe fear itself, though fear was probably the last thing on anyone’s mind. No, life was good, and it was only getting better, due to the ever-increasing advancements of technology and American ingenuity. Americans were cruising headlong into the new future they themselves had created. This technology brought some challenges, but not without some added comforts. Brand new homes, shiny new cars, steady new jobs, and exciting new relationships were in full-effect. Families began to blossom out of the last-minute marriages between soldiers and sweethearts who had feared they might never again see the beloved spouse they hardly knew. Often times they had tied the knot just before he boarded a transport to war. Dreams of loved ones kept hope alive for those awash in the horrors of war and monotony of factory life. Yet the return to daily life in America brought even more unexpected changes than the war itself-some of the previously happy couples were suddenly finding themselves in a state of despair and regret, and anxiously searched for an escape from the chains of their marriage, an escape that, to the average American in the 1950’s, was culturally unacceptable, morally wrong, financially unattainable, and practically difficult, yet to those in the predicament, seemingly necessary.

Nevada, and especially Reno, had long been a divorce center. Many came to “take the cure,” as they called it. “I’m on my way to Reno,” sang Billy Murray in 1910, declaring Reno’s easy divorces under Nevada state law. This dry, barren land in the West became an oasis of hope for those seeking relief from their marriage. Though other states offered divorces to varying degrees, Reno’s mix of the quick and practical divorce quickly caused the city to gain a reputation as the undisputed leader of convenient divorces. Reno had also played a key role in the dramatic increase of marriages at the outset of World War II with its instant marriage services. It is only fitting that Reno could help people reverse their hasty decisions.

Divorce had been legal in Nevada since the state’s inception in 1864 and even during the territorial period of 1861-1864. Because the transient population had found it difficult to make a permanent home in the arid state, the original citizenship requirement was only six months, and hence so was the divorce requirement, half of what most states required. Thanks to an entrepreneurial lawyer in New York who began to advertise the less stringent divorce laws of Nevada, and the coverage of high profile divorces like that of Mr. William Corey of U.S. Steel in 1905, Reno began to be known as a haven for those seeking divorce. Nevada legislators and business entrepreneurs continued to support this growth as they countered divorce measures in other states by lowering the residence requirements in Nevada and remaining on the cutting edge of the industry. It eventually was lowered to three months and then six weeks, except for the two year period that it was increased to one full year. Advertising, word of mouth, and the continued reporting of high profile divorcees kept Reno in the limelight for decades.

Nevada offered a variety of reasons for granting a divorce other than the reason most states allowed for, which was infidelity. Local businesses catered to and thrived on the clients and business of divorce, providing all of the necessary amenities for the weary, forlorn, and mismatched. These included hotels and resorts, guest ranches, food, entertainment, nightlife, recreation, and the like. In a time when the unhappy were hemmed in from all angles, Reno provided the easy escape from the seemingly cursed trap of a bad marriage. Like a light at the end of a dark tunnel, the beacon of Reno beckoned many and welcomed their problems, their presence, and their pocketbooks. Though Reno has become known as a city of finalities, dissolutions, and dreams gone awry, it is equally a city of possibilities, open doors, and hopes renewed. Many a divorce seeker came to Reno merely proclaiming their intent to “take up residence” and actually ended up calling Reno home for a lifetime.

At a time when Americans sought to find a balance between their philosophical beliefs and practical needs, the state of Nevada and the city of Reno played a critical role in the ever-changing social and cultural trends of our country. Following the lead of Nevada, many other states dropped their strict requirements on divorce in response to the changing needs of post WWII Americans. Reno continues to offer some of the easiest divorces, and has a divorce rate of nearly twice the national average to this day. An uncontested divorce for Nevada residents can cost as little as $400 and takes a mere 14 days to be finalized.

Timeline of Divorce in Nevada:

    1864: Nevada becomes a state during the Civil War
    1864-1899: Nevada maintains a 6 month residency requirement to attract and maintain its population (allows for a six-month divorce requirement; most states required at least one year)
    1899: Lord John Francis Stanley Russell arrives from Europe and gets a divorce in Genoa
    1906: William Corey, President of U.S. Steel, comes to Nevada for a divorce from ___________________
    1910: Billy Murray releases song entitled “I’m on my way to Reno.”
    1913: State legislators boost the requirement to one year.
    1915: State legislators lower the requirement back to six months following protest of Reno business and political leaders (One businessman said Reno lost $1 million from 1913-1915).
    1920: Famous American actress Mary Pickford comes to Reno for a divorce from her husband Owen Moore.
    1920’s:
        -Nevada adds “extreme mental cruelty” to the list of acceptable reasons for a divorce
        -Phrases such as “taking the cure” and getting “Reno-Vated” become popular, as do the acts of kissing the courthouse pillars and throwing rings into the Truckee River.
    1927: Nevada residency law is lowered to 3 months to compete with other Western states, providing for even easier divorces!
    1931: Six Week residency law is passed, making Nevada, and especially Reno, the “divorce capitol of the world.”

Additional reading I found interesting and informative:

Reno: Twentieth-Century Divorce Capital, by Mella Harmon, from an unpublished master's thesis (University of Nevada Press) at Online Nevada Encyclopedia, 2009.

Betty Goes Reno: A visit to the glamorous divorce ranches of the Mad Men era, in Slate (note: slide show is defunct). Excerpt below:

Even before the 1931 law, some horse ranches had begun taking in "dudes" (out-of-towners, male or female) in order to earn a little extra income. They offered guests a slice of the Western experience—riding, swimming and fishing, and trips to the rodeo. Soon they were sheltering dudes who were looking to shake a spouse. Sometimes the atmosphere was rustic, like at the TH Ranch, where accommodations consisted of a series of one-room cabins without running water or toilets. On the other end of the spectrum was the Flying M E Ranch, which offered comfortable guestrooms in a large, modern ranch house, a swimming pool, and an air of exclusivity. The Flying M E became so well-known for keeping their guest list hush-hush that even nondivorcing celebrities, like Clark Gable, vacationed there.

Since most divorcees-to-be had ironed out the terms of their divorces and filed their paperwork back home, their only real job in Reno was to pass the time. According to Bill McGee, who worked as a dude wrangler at the Flying M E, a typical day at a divorce ranch might have looked like this: horseback riding in the morning, an after-lunch trip into town for shopping or a visit with a lawyer, and then, in the evening, cocktails, communal dinner, and another car trip to a bar or a casino, where the ladies would dance and drink and gamble.

the six-week cure, published in Nevada Magazine in 1981, which includes the same photo as used in this old postcard and noted as being from the University of Nevada, Reno Special Collections (so that must be where the original drawing is preserved). The following paragraph is from the article:

Reno’s attractions were many, and the divorce seeker was rarely at a loss for amusement. Two-thirds of Nevada divorces were granted to women, and the state worked hard to assure them that coming to Nevada would be a pleasant and safe experience. Dude ranches offered a desert haven for those wishing to escape journalists and photographers. The Flying ME at Franktown and the Pyramid Lake Ranch catered to an elite clientele who spent their days basking in the sun, swimming, and taking riding lessons. Nights were a whirlwind of dining and dancing at the posh Willows Inn and the French Room of the Reno Country Club. The Pyramid Lake Ranch became a favorite spot for women who brought their children for the six-week stay. It was well known as a place where kids would be looked after during that kind of vacation.

And finally, two videos from the same source, mcgeebmcpublications, that I cannot share here because embedding has been disabled:

Reno Divorce Ranch Stories - If you have an extra 7 minutes I think you would really enjoy the short film. I loved it!

This is the synopsis:

On May 16, 2004, the gates of Washoe Valley's famous Flying M E divorce ranch were opened for a special event hosted by Bill McGee and Sandra McGee. The occasion was the publication of their new book, THE DIVORCE SEEKERS: A PHOTO MEMOIR OF A NEVADA DUDE WRANGLER. Nearly every guest had a personal connection to Nevada's most exclusive divorce ranch and its legendary proprietor, Emmy Wood. Guests shared their memories about the divorce ranch where Bill McGee worked as the head dude wrangler from 1947 to 1950. [This is a 7:03 clip from the full-length one hour DVD]

"Welcome to Reno - America's Divorce Resort" - with remarkable movie clips. Here is the synopsis:

Former 1940s Reno divorce ranch wrangler Bill McGee provides on-camera commentary in this clip from a special featurette produced for 20th Century Fox to accompany the re-release on DVD of the 1939 film, "Charlie Chan in Reno." (From The Charlie Chan Collection, Vol. 4)

Bill McGee is author of THE DIVORCE SEEKERS: A PHOTO MEMOIR OF A NEVADA DUDE WRANGLER, a collection of stories about his time from 1947 to 1950 working on an exclusive divorce ranch south of Reno that catered to wealthy Easterners and Hollywood celebrities.

Mag 114 -- The Dreamtank

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 10:41:00 +0000

ᗪᗝ ﬡᗢ☂ ᙓﬡ♈ᗴᖇ ♈ᖺᙓ ℱᗢᖇᙓᔕ♈ ᕍᙓᙓᕈ.
ᒪᙓ♈ ☂ᖺᗴ ᖲᗢᎩ ᔕᒪᙓᗴᕈ ☂ᖺᙓᖇᗴ, ᖇᗢᗢ☂ᗴᖱ
ᓰﬡ ♈ᖺᙓ ᗰᗢᔕᔕ૪ ᑕᖇᙓᗴᕈ ᗢℱ ᔕᗝᓰᒪ
ᔕ♈ᖇᙓ☂ᑕᖺᓰﬡᘐ ℱᖇᗝᙢ ᔕᙡᓮﬡᘐᔕᙓ♈ ♈ᗝ ᔕᙓჯ
ᓰﬡ ♈ᖺᙓ ᙡᗢᗢᕍᔕ ᙡᓰ☂ᖺ ♈ᖺᗴ ♈ᗩᗯﬡᎩ-
ᖺᗩᓰᖇᗴᖱ ᘐᓰᖇᒪ ᗯᖺᗢ Ⅴᗴჯᗴᔕ ᖺᓰᔕ ᖱᖇᙓᗩᙢᔕ
ᓰﬡ ᙢᙓᖇᙢᗩᓮᖱ ℱᗢᖇᗰ, ᗩᒪᒪ ᙡᙓ♈ ᗩﬡᕍ
ᔕᗩᔕᔕᎩ ᔕᖰᒪᗩᔕᖺᎩ, ᔕᙓﬡᔕ⋒ᗩᒪᒪᎩ
⋒ﬡᖙ⋒ᒪᗩ♈ᓮﬡᘐ ᗝᐯᙓᖇ ᖺᓰᗰ, ᖺᓰᔕ ⋒ﬡᖙᙓᖇ-
ᙡᙓᗩᖇ ᕍᖇᙓﬡᙅᖺᙓᖱ ᗩᔕ ᕊᒪ⋒ᙓ ᒪᗩﬡᘐ⋒ᗩᘐᙓ
ᖲ⋒ᕊᖲᒪᙓᔕ ᖲᙓ♈ᙡᙓᗴﬡ ☂ᖺᙓᙢ.
ᒪᙓ♈ ♈ᖺᙓ ᖙᖇᗴᗩᙢ♈ᗩﬡḰ ᖇ⋒ᔕᖺ ᗩﬡᖱ
ᗢⅤᗴᖇℱᒪᗢᙡ, ᗯᗩ♈ᙓᖇᓮﬡᘐ ᗩﬡ ᗴᗩᖇ♈ᖺ૪
ᕊᗴᖇ♈ᖺ ☂ᗢ ᑕ⋒ᔕᖺᓰᗢﬡ ♈ᖺᙓ ᙡᓰᖱᗴ-
ᗩᗯᗩḰᙓ ᖱᗩᎩ ᗯᓰ♈ᖺᗢ⋒♈ ᖺᙓᖇ.

(Do not enter the forest deep.
Let the boy sleep there, rooted
in the mossy creep of soil
stretching from swingset to sex
in the woods with the tawny-
haired girl who vexes his dreams
in mermaid form, all wet and
sassy splashy, sensually
undulating over him, his under-
wear drenched as blue language
bubbles between them.
Let the dreamtank rush and
overflow, watering an earthy
berth to cushion the wide-
awake day without her.)

Written for The Mag: Mag 114 that inspired with the above photo prompt

(image by Alex Stoddard).

On Earth Day

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Sun, 22 Apr 2012 09:29:00 +0000

3V1200SunsetSky by Jim Crotty

Gitanjali ~ Song 69

-by Rabindranath Tagore

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) Indian poet, playwright and essayist;

won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913.

This is Number Ten in a randomly-posted, continuing series of quotes by Tagore.

Everything he wrote is golden.

.
.

Mag 113 -- the town blushed

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 08:55:00 +0000

Greetings. How many of you are there?

Halo there!
It is I, alone.

Tell me true, have you been painting the town red?

No. The town blushed, and my clothes became flushed with color as I brushed by.

What of that handsomest of men over there,

the one carrying the naked paper doll?

I bow to him, indeed I do. And why? Because his face blushes, but his hands stay cool to keep the flowers he holds fresh.

What will he do with the bouquet and that pale paper doll?

He has shown the doll to the driver of the carriage so he will recognize the girl when he finds her inside the town. The horses are very strong, very swift, so it will not take long to find her near the gold statue. The driver will whisper to her to jump on board for the journey out of the village where her love awaits.

Then her love will present the flowers to her?

Yes. And he will kiss her lips...it has been long since they were parted.

And what of you, after they are gone what will you do?

I will continue taking my census of sinners.
Tell me what you will now do.

I will come to my senses and get the hell out of here!

Written for The Mag: Mag 113 that inspired with the above photo prompt

(Red Roofs, Marc Chagall, 1954).

.

Old Postcard Wednesday--Fellini • Portrait of a Film Director

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 18 Apr 2012 09:26:00 +0000

You exist only in what you do.

~Federico Fellini

I love this old postcard, and I love the above Fellini quote. It seems such a simple concept but once you begin thinking about it layers peel off from layers and there is so much there.

As I exist right his moment--writing this post for your consideration--what I am going to do is tell you something I am not pleased with about myself: I have never seen a Fellini movie. So I am asking for your advice in selecting which of his movies you think I should definitely purchase. The full list is available at Ranker.

:::

Talking about dreams is like talking about movies; since the cinema uses the language of dreams, years can pass in a second and you can hop from one place to another. It’s a language made of image. And in the real cinema, every object and every light means something, as in a dream.

~Federico Fellini

I have had some bad dreams lately, something unusual for me and something I am aware is going on because I have remembered a few in those first seconds after waking only to have them a total wipe from my brain by the time my feet hit the floor. Not remembering them is probably a gift I am subconsciously giving to myself, in spite of telling myself to analyze them later on.

Silverton's local theater, The Palace, had a fire last week that was a real nightmare for this small town. The owners had just completed an near $100,000 upgrade to state-of-the-art digital and The Hunger Games was in a second week showing (we hadn't seen it yet). A woman who lives in an apartment upstairs in a building in the block said her little Chinese Crested dog just would not let up in asking to go outside. It was around
7:00 a.m. when she walked the dog to the corner where The Palace is and saw the lobby in flames. Her quick thinking--she ran back to her place, called 911 and the owners of the business and the building--probably saved The Palace. The situation as it stands now is that the cause is unknown, but deemed accidental, and the theater will be closed for an undetermined time for evaluation and repairs. There was smoke damage inside, but perhaps the machinery itself escaped it. We are all hoping for the best.

Our mayor, Stu Rasmussen, is co-owner of The Palace, where he worked as a boy and fell in love with the place. Stu is the first transgendered mayor of an American city and I think Fellini himself would find him a fascinating person (and fellow movie buff). Click to see a photo of Stu lookin' gorgeous at his re-election website in the "Reality Check" page. In the video below, taken the morning of the fire, he is interviewed sans makeup.

:::

A good opening and a good ending make for a good film provide they come close together.

~Federico Fellini

The same is true for most blog posts so I am keeping the opening and ending of this one confined as is. I'll be looking forward to your Fellini movie recommendations!

.

Poetics: Subway • The Sounds of Silence

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Sun, 15 Apr 2012 12:41:00 +0000

Real loopy we were, in crazy torque
one honeymoon night in New York--
hung around Times Square after dark.

We would not make it to the park
until the next day. But that night
it was darker than light,

our eyes were tired, our feet so sore.
We bought a key-ring alarm in a store
that gave me the creeps, even more

than the imagined peeps it was for.
(What was the rush...we'd
been in the city for a week.)

We were hungry; I needed caffeine
in spite of the rush seeing the ring
on my left hand. Offhand I'd say it

was a screwy kind of night: helter-skelter
sightseeing (I loved NY
sight-unseen since I was nine),

so much to see, too little time,
too emotionally fried
and we lost our way--although we tried

for the right underground station.
Missing the mark led to frustration,
the need for contemplation.

In a sad diner with sour coffee
and stale pie you sweetly kissed me.

Feeling bedraggled, jostled, disjointed,
we headed down for the appointed
route on the map that made sense now.

===We were back on track===, and Wow...

There in concrete tunnels with roaring trains
all complexity was softened by refrains
of (imagine this) The Sounds of Silence

sung by two musicians strumming
the song I'm now humming, remembering--
knowing--not everything's science.

MLydiaM ~ April 2012

Written for Poetics: Subway at dVerse Poets. Thank you to Claudia for this prompt. She recently visited New York City, and her commentary post is pure poetry itself. Just click on the link and you'll see!

.

Morning

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Fri, 13 Apr 2012 21:02:00 +0000

Image by Micah Holtgraves

When morning came to this place like a meditation on harmony and hope,
he took a photo to remember that seeing clearly and moving forward
were perhaps the truest ways to honor the love that grew there
before withering into petals of mourning.

Still, his eyes occasionally traced the low horizon that birthed the sun.

Written for Friday Flash 55 - My post in exactly 55 words- For the G-Man.

Old Postcard Wednesday--Swope Park, Kansas City, Missouri

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 09:06:00 +0000

The exact spot shown on this old postcard is not given mention, but I found that it is the Thomas H. Swope Memorial Fountain. I highlighted copied text below and have included two photos that show better the lion near the column.

Swope Park was more than 1300 acres, was the third largest in America, and included some nice ammenities at the time this old postcard was published. I wondered what about those stats, if anything, has changed since around 1948. This is what I found:

Wikipedia notes that Swope Park is the "twenty-ninth largest municipal park in the United States." It also provides a global list of urban parks by size (both state and municipal parks included) that may not be complete, as it needs additional citations for verification. In the Wikipedia global list Swope Park ranks as 71st in size.

That information made me want to know what municipal park is now the third largest in the U.S. Using Wikipedia's urban parks list -- and extracting those that are named state parks -- I found that Cullen Park in Houston, Texas would be #3. Determining the first and second largest municipal parks in the U.S. gets tricky depending upon the source. To prove how confusing it is I am sharing the following text from The Straight Dope (it has actually nothing to do with Swope Park but is interesting in context):

A Straight Dope Classic from Cecil's Storehouse of Human Knowledge

What is the largest city park in the U.S.?

May 3, 1985

Dear Cecil:

I have worried for some time about what city in the U.S. houses the largest park. My worries began when I moved to Philadelphia, and a city map said Fairmount Park was the largest city park. Then when I came to Los Angeles, another guidebook told me that Griffith was the largest municipal park. Finally, I gave my organizational communication class at USC the assignment of finding out the Truth, and they told me it was Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. We have called park services, geography professors, and chambers of commerce, and are truly stumped. How about the straight dope?

— Eric E., Professor of Communication, University of Southern California, Los Angeles

Cecil replies:

Your class said the largest park was Golden Gate? Golden Gate Park (either 1,107 or 1,017 acres, depending on who you think made a typographical error) is not only not the largest city park, it isn't even in the top ten. (Remember, we're talking city parks — Golden Gate National Recreation Area, which is federally administered, is 24,000 acres.) If the feebs in your class had bothered to check with the LA parks and recreation commission — which, for Chrissake, is a local call — they'd have found that Griffith Park comprises 4,107.87 acres. Still, Griffith can't beat out Philly's famed Fairmount Park, which boasts 4,618 acres, according to the Fairmount Park Commission. Admittedly 379 acres of this consists of the Schuylkill, a river. Even deducting this, however, we have 4,239 acres of dry land, enough to beat out Griffith.

But Fairmount isn't the biggest city park either. It isn't even second biggest. The largest city park in the U.S. is South Mountain Park in Phoenix, Arizona, which presently comprises 16,169 acres and eventually will encompass 16,455 acres. Second place goes to another Phoenix park — Phoenix Mountain Reserve, now 7,358 acres, eventually to be 7,750 acres.

If it makes you feel any better, park acreage is probably second only to city population when it comes to exaggeration, misinformation, and fraud. The one comprehensive list I've seen, put out by the National Recreation and Parks Association, is filled with gross inaccuracies and omissions, skipping not only the two Phoenix parks but two of the largest parks in New York City. It does include NYC's Pelham Bay Park (2,117 acres), probably the nation's fifth largest city park, and DC's Rock Creek Park (1,754 acres), probably sixth. FYI, Chicago's Lincoln Park has 1,185 acres, which probably puts it around 12th, and New York's Central Park, at 840 acres, comes in around 15th.

— Cecil Adams

Given old Cecil's final paragraph, I thought I'd check out the stats at the National Recreation and Parks Association. Honestly, I could not find a list of any sort ranking parks according to size or anything else. If you want to try yourself, go here (and good luck).

But of Swope Park, trustworthy and interesting information is at your fingertips via the City of Kansas City Missouri website. This is a portion of the piece on Swope Park that answers my initial question about what might have changed since the old postcard was made:

Amenities:
Kansas City Zoo, Lakeside Nature Center, Swope Memorial and Heart of America Golf Courses, Kansas City Wizards training facility, Southeast Community Center, Starlight Theatre, Battle of Westport Museum, Camp Lake of the Woods, Kansas City Community Gardens and Beanstalk Chidren's Garden, disc golf course, KC Master Gardeners Demonstration Garden, Swope Pool, 2-mile Fox Hollow exercise trail, 1.37-mile bike trail, 3.35-miles of mountain bike trails, two tennis courts, three playgrounds, 10 shelter houses (eight reservable), numerous picnic areas, six ball diamonds (three lighted), cricket fields, and four soccer fields.

History:
At 1,805-acres, Swope Park is the crown jewel of the Kansas City, Mo. park system. As Kansas City's largest park, and one of the largest urban parks in the United States, Swope Park is home to many of Kansas City’s finest attractions.

Thomas Hunton Swope was born in Kentucky in 1827. After living in several states, he moved to St. Louis where he worked in real estate. He came to Kansas City in 1857 after purchasing some property here and later became the largest individual land owner in Kansas City. Mr. Swope was called "Colonel" Swope, but the title was honorary and not from military service.

In 1896, Colonel Swope donated 1,334 acres to the City of Kansas City, Mo. for use as a public park. With property acquisitions made over the years, the park now has 1,805 acres. It is Kansas City’s largest park and one of the largest urban parks in the United States.

Thomas H. Swope Memorial and Fountain:

After Thomas Swope's death in 1909, his body was kept in a holding vault until a memorial was built in Swope Park. A site was chosen on a hill overlooking the lagoon and the entire park. He was laid to rest at the memorial in 1918. The memorial appears to be based on a design drawn by George Kessler in 1915. The lions and decorative bronze were done by Charles Keck, the former president of the National Sculpture Society. The fountain and balustrade were completed in 1922-23, designed by the Wight and Wight architectural firm. The fountain is one of two solar-powered fountains that are operated by the City.

The Kansas City Zoo houses the Mary A. Fraser Memorial Drinking Fountain, Harry Evans Monty Memorial Fountain, Albert Elwood Shirling Sanctuary, "Bonfire and Meridian" sculpture, "Rock & Steel" sculpture, "Fishing Rock" sculpture and "Strange Strange Sam" sculpture.

Starlight Theatre is home to the Shirley Bush Helzberg Fountain and Jack and Martha Steadman Fountain.

Ken Ferguson sculptures, "Rabbit Hiding from Fox," "The Race Is Not Always Swift" and "Two Doves Sitting on a Branch Up High" are displayed at Lakeside Nature Center.

Here are photo/info links for a few of the marvelous sculptures featured at various sites around Swope Park:

These two images show the Thomas H. Swope Memorial Fountain more clearly than as seen on the old postcard:

image: City of Kansas City, MO

image via mitraswipes

Finally, from the sublime to the startling, I will include a link to a 2006 hardcore hip hop song that includes lyrics mentioning Swope Park (at 3:58 on video), because the mere fact that this song exists is another
indicator of what has changed since the days when Swope Park was America's
third largest park...Riot Maker by Tech N9ne.

.

Mag 112 -- crack

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 09:28:00 +0000

The teacher showed this image to her third-grade class a few days before spring break.

"What do you think it means?" she chirped.

From a cacophony of laughter, and a crowd of pronouncements:

{"That's dumb." "She is broken." "Are the eggs bleeding?" "It is about space travel." "She's an alien." "She's hot." "She's dreaming." "It is a bad dream." "She's allergic to dogs." She lost her job and can't take her dog with her." "Is she homeless?" "She is queen of the egg people." "It's the end of the world." "She is searching for food." "It's about coloring eggs."}

Leslie's thin voice emerged and, in a matter of moments, prevailed.

"It's about my mother and crack, and how she can't take care of me anymore. You can pretend that I am the puppy watching her go away."

The teacher moved on to the next image, while making a note to ask for Leslie's records at the end of the day.

Written for The Mag: Mag 112 that inspired with the above photo prompt

(image by djajakarta, Egg Island).

Ode to a Leporid

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 09:04:00 +0000

Image: The End of Banality by Starla Halfmann

Coming soon are spring Easter hours

and fond memories of shining flowers

in soft dewy grasses

that wet our small asses

when squatting down, hoping

a fine Leporid ceased loping

in that sweet spot to gently hide

the prized colored egg, great pride

of its enchanted young finder.

Thanks Easter Bunny! You couldn't be kinder.

Written for Friday Flash 55 - My post in exactly 55 words- For the G-Man.

Mag 111 -- architect's obituary

noreply@blogger.com (Lydia) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 12:04:00 +0000

(Obituary con't.)

a quirky nest retreat (its location a secret

to this day) and the frosted glass Polar

Institute Building are among his most

famous buildings.

The celebrated architect, whose vision-

ary minimalist work was prized world-

wide, publicly announced his retirement

after the surprise closing of his head-

quarters in Milan. He later shunned the
media, agreeing to only one interview

before his death. When asked to sum his

life he said:

"It was a life -- not belonging to me but

to art -- lived in fits of passion with

intervals of meditation. Passion was the

work itself and meditation fed the

creative spark. I lived, I will die. My

buildings will live beyond me, some

more appreciated than others. And

the nest is history."

Written for The Mag: Mag 111 that inspired with the above photo prompt (image: ParkeHarrison, Study of Nest 1994.

.

Writerquake

Old Postcard Wednesday—Shore of the Pacific (the Fukushima activism edition)

30-minute Broadcast on Fukushima: “If anything happens, this is not just about the end of Japan, probably start of the end of the world” (VIDEO HERE)

Senator on National TV: I’m so concerned about Unit 4 fuel pool — Tepco’s plan must be sped up — “It’s very clear there are substantial health questions that have to be addressed now” (VIDEO below)

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Mag 119 — the dancer

Critique and Craft: Stream-of-Consciousness Writing • Ghosts

Old Postcard Wednesday—*I Like the 70s*

Mag 118 — the yellow clown

OPW--a GIFcard

Mag 117 — forgiveness

Critique and Craft: Machine Dreams • Wings

Old Postcard Wednesday--Deception Pass Bridge, Puget Sound, Washington

Poetics: 'OUR Music' • music definition

FormForAll: Clarion Sonnet • skinning genes

Old Postcard Wednesday--Ferry Building, San Francisco

Poetics: Vampires • eve

Found in translation

Old Postcard Wednesday--Six Weeks in Nevada • "The Cure"

Mag 114 -- The Dreamtank

On Earth Day

Mag 113 -- the town blushed

Old Postcard Wednesday--Fellini • Portrait of a Film Director

Poetics: Subway • The Sounds of Silence

Morning

Old Postcard Wednesday--Swope Park, Kansas City, Missouri

Mag 112 -- crack

Ode to a Leporid

Mag 111 -- architect's obituary

Old Postcard Wednesday—I Like the 70s