“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 224

November 9th, 2020

I’m thinking there’s a theme I want to work with this week.

From the “Dark Docs” channel, “Alive and Free – Or Dead”, a short documentary about Dieter Dengler.

He was one of two survivors, the other being Phisit Intharathat, out of seven prisoners of war (POWs) who escaped from a Pathet Lao prison camp in Laos. He was rescued after 23 days on the run following six months of torture and imprisonment and was the first captured U.S. airman to escape enemy captivity during the Vietnam war.

Lawrence and I have a fair amount of Herzog on our giant movie list, including “Little Dieter Needs To Fly”. I did not know this until today, but there’s a huge Herzog blu-ray box set (affiliate link) from Shout Factory that tempts me greatly.

Bonus: from the “Wings Over Vietnam” series, “The Jolly Greens”, about the guys who rescued pilots who were downed over Vietnam.

Obit watch: November 9, 2020.

November 9th, 2020

A few obits from over the weekend. I’ll start by just quoting the lead from this NYT one:

Norm Crosby, the comedian known as the master of malaprop because he spoke from his diagram and related many funny antidotes, often to a standing ovulation, died on Saturday in Los Angeles. He was 93.

More:

He was trying to develop new material when a club owner made an offhand comment about one of the club’s cabaret dancers. The owner, who had given the young woman a ride, “came into my dressing room and he said to me, ‘Find out if the girl is staying over or if she communicates,’” Mr. Crosby recalled. “I said, ‘My God, a lot of people talk like that. Maybe that would be fun.’ So I started the play on words.”
He tried it in Massachusetts, he added, “and the places I worked, unfortunately, people didn’t get the difference.”
Because of the particulars of his Latin Quarter booking, Mr. Crosby’s routine was not an immediate breakthrough with Times Square audiences either. He started out performing 12-minute filler sets between stage acts during his weeklong engagement, and his jokes were largely ignored. “I was on for five minutes before anybody knew I was out there,” he said.
At the end of the week, a dejected Mr. Crosby packed his bags and went to pick up his check from the manager, who apologized for the difficult assignment and promised him a better slot in the show. Once audiences had a chance to get the joke, he was a hit. He stayed at the Latin Quarter for 18 weeks, after which the prestigious William Morris Agency began representing him.

Speaking of Senator Goldwater, he said, “When President Johnson declared war on puberty, it was Senator Goldwater who said, and I quote, ‘Wherever there is unemployment, you’ll find men out of work.’”
He was a pitchman in the late 1970s and early 1980s for Anheuser-Busch’s Natural Light beer, appearing in commercials with Mickey Mantle, Henny Youngman and Joe Frazier.
In one commercial, he declared, “I always keep Natural on hand while I watch these athletes perspiring to achieve victory, cause these sporting computations make me so dehybernated.”

Robert Sam Anson, noted magazine writer and author.

Marguerite Littman.

By all accounts hypnotically charming, Ms. Littman, who landed in Los Angeles at midcentury, counted among her closest friends the writer Christopher Isherwood and his partner, the artist Don Bachardy, as well as Gore Vidal, David Hockney and, famously, Truman Capote, who is said to have distilled that charm into his most famous character, Holly Golightly of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

An oft-told story about Ms. Littman goes like this: Mr. Capote and Ms. Littman were sitting at the pool at Cipriani’s in Venice in the late 1970s when Ms. Littman pointed out an extremely thin woman. “That is anorexia nervosa,” she declared. And Mr. Capote replied, “Oh Marguerite, you know everybody.”

Finally, Eddie Johnson. My feelings about the NBA are well known, but this is a depressing story.

Johnson, who was nicknamed Fast Eddie for his explosive first step, was drafted out of Auburn University in 1977 by the Atlanta Hawks. He soon became one of the team’s top players and started the 1980 and 1981 All-Star Games.
“He was built like a linebacker and was as fast as they come with the ball in his hands, putting it on the floor, attacking someone off the dribble,” Mike Fratello, who coached the Hawks during some of Johnson’s nine seasons with the team, said in a phone interview. “And he could defend because of his strength and his ability to move his feet.”

But he also got into cocaine.

Johnson began to use cocaine in college and continued using it during his N.B.A. career. During his professional playing days, he was charged with cocaine possession, writing bad checks and car theft; he was hospitalized at least twice for treatment of manic-depressive disorder; and he successfully fled two men shooting at him in a motel parking lot after what the police said was a drug deal gone wrong.
In 1981, Johnson discussed his cocaine use in an interview with Sports Illustrated. “I partied a little extensively, but I wasn’t abusing it,” he said. “The whole idea of me abusing drugs is outlandish.”

He was traded to Cleveland, went to Seattle briefly, and was banned by the NBA in 1987.

When there were no games left to play, Johnson’s life unraveled. By his own count, he was arrested at least 100 times. Between 1987 and 2001, he was convicted, among other crimes, of burglary, battery, drug sale and possession, violently resisting arrest and grand theft.
He committed his most serious crime in 2006. Prosecutors said he had entered the unlocked front door of an apartment in Ocala where an 8-year-old girl and her three brothers were alone watching television; a babysitter had stepped outside.
The girl testified at Johnson’s trial in 2008 that he had followed her to her bedroom, locked the door and pushed a dresser in front of it before sexually assaulting her. He was convicted of sexual battery and molestation. He received a mandatory life sentence.

Obit watch: November 8, 2020.

November 8th, 2020

Alex Trebek. Jeopardy. Variety. THR.

The Lustgarten Foundation for Pancreatic Cancer Research.

Alex is survived by his wife of 30 years, Jean, and children Matthew, Emily, and Nicky. The family has announced no plans for a service, but gifts in Alex’s memory could go to World Vision.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 223

November 8th, 2020

Science Sunday!

This is an interesting intersection of two things I’m interested in: space history and photography.

“How did NASA get those great film shots of Apollo and the Shuttle?”

Bonus: I’ve touched on Harold “Doc” Edgerton previously, but this is a nice tribute and explanation of his work from MIT.

Bonus #2: “Quicker ‘n a Wink”, Doc in 1940.

I’m not going to include them here, but if you search YouTube, you can find some videos that emulate Dr. Edgerton’s photos with modern equipment.

My reason for not including them here is that they do require purchasing some equipment that you probably do not already have: while the price for the additional equipment in one video is reasonable (slightly more than $50) I don’t want to be seen as endorsing the products.

(And I realize that may seem kind of hypocritical for someone who throws around Amazon affiliate links like candy. What can I say: man’s got to have some standards, even if they are low ones.)

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 222

November 7th, 2020

I haven’t paid enough attention to firefighters. Let me fix that.

Vintage LA Fire Department propaganda film from 1949. Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

And the senses shattering part 4:

Bonus: LAFD and the 1st Interstate Bank Fire.

Extinguishing this blaze at the 62-story First Interstate Bank Building, 707 West Wilshire Boulevard, required the combined efforts of 64 fire companies, 10 City rescue ambulances, 17 private ambulances, 4 helicopters, 53 Command Officers and support personnel, a complement of 383 Firefighters and Paramedics, and considerable assistance from other City departments.
It is humbling and terrifying to realize how close we came to losing control of this fire!

Part 1:

Part 2:

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 221

November 6th, 2020

Travel Thursday On Friday!

How would you like to visit exotic Central America? And Mexico?

“Wings To Central America and Mexico”, from Pan Am about 1959.

Bonus: “Some Impressions of Travel In Central America” by Quintus Curtius.

I’ve heard good things about Lives of the Great Commanders (affiliate link) and it is on my Amazon wish list to purchase eventually.

Obit watch: November 6, 2020.

November 6th, 2020

Elsa Raven.

She was the real estate agent in “The Amityville Horror” and “Clocktower Lady” in “Back to the Future”. She also did a bunch of TV: no “Mannix”, but “Quincy, M.E.”, “The A-Team”, “Wiseguy”, and one of the “Rockford Files” movies, among other credits.

Quote of the day.

November 5th, 2020

That community is already in the process of dissolution where each man begins to eye his neighbor as a possible enemy, where nonconformity with the accepted creed, political as well as religious, is a mark of disaffection; where denunciation, without specification or backing, takes the place of evidence; where orthodoxy chokes freedom of dissent; where faith in the eventual supremacy of reason has become so timid that we dare not enter our convictions in the open lists, to win or lose.

–Judge Learned Hand, Speech to the Board of Regents of the University of the State of New York, October 24, 1952.

Oddly enough, that quote popped up on this morning’s “Perry Mason” episode.

I’m thinking, if you held a gun to my head and asked me to pick a favorite judge, it would be Learned Hand. I feel like I should apologize to Judge Willett for that, but I also have a feeling that if he heard me say that, he’d agree Learned Hand is a good choice.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 220

November 5th, 2020

Travel Thursday has been delayed until tomorrow, because this is also my happy Guy Fawkes Day post for all my homies in the United Kingdom. This is also going up earlier than usual because UKOGBNI time differences. (Two! Two! Two posts in one! Because I’m a lazy blogger.)

So: Happy Guy Fawkes Day, people! I’ve been waiting probably about six months to use this one.

Richard “Hamster” Hammond from 2005: “The Gunpowder Plot: Exploding the Legend”. In which Hammond not only talks about the gunpowder plot, but builds a replica of the House of Lords…and then blows it up.

I know this is kind of long, so for the convenience of my readers who may not have a holiday today: here’s the timestamp for the big event.

Spoiler:

Read the rest of this entry »

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 219

November 4th, 2020

I had a long day and a late night yesterday. I had videos queued up for Tuesday and I have stuff queued up for the Thursday holiday, but I didn’t manage to get anything enqueued for today.

So here’s two longish things, one of which bends the rules a little bit:

“Tubular Bells: The Mike Oldfield Story” from the BBC in 2013.

Bonus video: this is my rule bending one, as it is actually a noir movie, not non-fiction. Lawrence mentioned this last night, and I thought I’d throw it up here since I don’t see that he’s blogged about it. This is also kind of a bookmark for me: I might watch this once I’ve caught up on sleep.

“Inner Sanctum”, from 1948. It’s only 62 minutes long.

A man fleeing the police after having committed a murder hides out in a boarding house in a small town.

In addition to this being a somewhat well-regarded noir film, it also features the great SF/fantasy writer Fritz Leiber as “Dr. Valonius”. If you don’t want to watch the whole thing, but are curious about Leiber, “Dr. Valonius” shows up almost immediately. (Edit: I was misinformed: the Fritz Leiber in “Inner Sanctum” is actually the writer’s father, not the writer.)

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 218

November 3rd, 2020

Thought I’d post some gun stuff today, for reasons.

Miami Police Department’s patrol rifle class:

Bonus #1, also a bookmark for me: Ryan Cleckner explains milliradians.

Bonus #2: this is kind of gun adjacent, but I’m posting this explicitly as Lawrence bait: “Greatest Tank Battles”, on “The Battle of 73 Easting”.

Bonus #3: “Japanese Guns of World War 2”, from LionHeart FilmWorks.

(See also. Affiliate link, but it delights me down to the bottom of my shriveled little coal black heart that a lot of this stuff is coming back in Kindle editions.)

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 217

November 2nd, 2020

Here’s a little slice of history for all of you “Emergency” fans out there: “Sirens In the Night”, a 1972 documentary about the Jacksonville Fire Department. Jacksonville was (according to the YouTube captions) the first fire department in the US to provide EMS services.

In November 1967, Mayor Hans Tanzler placed emergency ambulance service permanently in the care of the Jacksonville Fire Department. The Rescue Division began with six station wagons, each staffed by a chief and two firefighters, equipped with first aid kits and folding Army cots for stretchers. Within a few months the department equipped and staffed six new modular transport vehicles for continuous 24-hour service. Crews soon became aware that they were in over their heads due to the nature of the calls, a large proportion of which were cardiac related, so the department connected with area doctors eager to provide better training. With advanced medical training and better equipment, the Jacksonville Fire Department saved more lives, and Jacksonville became known as the ‘safest city in the world to have a heart attack.’

Notable accomplishments of the JFRD are:
1. Establishing one of the first Advanced Life Support (ALS) service in the nation;
2. Establishing the first Hazardous Materials team in 1977;
3. Becoming the first fire department to successfully extinguish a fully involved petroleum tank fire

Bonus video: from 1959, Mike Wallace interviews Rod Serling.

Obit watch: November 2, 2020.

November 2nd, 2020

Great and good FotB RoadRich sent over an obit for actor Eddie Hassell. HouChron.

The Dallas Morning News is basically unreadable if you are not a subscriber, so I can’t link to that. According to the reports I’ve seen, Mr. Hassell died as a result of an apparent carjacking.

Nikki McKibbin. She finished third in the first round of “American Idol”.

Ms. McKibbin rose to national fame in 2002 as a contestant on “American Idol,” the Fox reality show in which singers competed for a record deal. Appearing with an unabashedly punk style, complete with a shock of dyed red hair, she was praised for her soulful covers, including “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler, “Black Velvet” by Alannah Myles and “Piece of My Heart,” which Janis Joplin made famous with Big Brother and the Holding Company.

She was only 42, and passed away due to complications from a brain aneurysm.

Your loser update: week 8, 2020.

November 1st, 2020

NFL teams that still have a chance to go 0-16:

New York Jets

Next week, the Jets play New England on Monday night, so the loser update won’t go up until Tuesday morning.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 216

November 1st, 2020

Science Sunday!

Today, random. First up: “RMS Titanic: Fascinating Engineering Facts”. This actually talks about both Olympic and Titanic, and (unlike a lot of Titanic stuff) concentrates more on the engineering and shipbuilding: basically, how do you build and launch something that big?

This is only science adjacent, but I wanted to post this as a tribute: James Randi appears on “I’ve Got a Secret”.

And since that was only science adjacent, James Randi’s TED talk on homeopathy, quackery and fraud. I generally hesitate to link to TED talks, but this is an exception.

More Randi: this time, talking about Uri Geller and Geller’s “repudiation” of his claims to have psychic powers.

(As a side note, when Randi died, I got to wondering what Uri Geller was up to these days. I ran across this amusing bit from Geller’s Wikipedia entry.

In 1997 he tried to help the Second Division football club Exeter City win a crucial end of season game by placing “energy-infused” crystals behind the goals at Exeter’s ground (Exeter lost the game 5–1); he was appointed co-chairman of the club in 2002. The club was relegated to the Football Conference in May 2003, where it remained for five years. He has since severed ties with the club.

I think if Geller offers you his assistance, you should probably run in the opposite direction.)

(The James Randi Foundation channel on YouTube.)

Have you ever wondered, “How do they build those massive freaking mirrors for really big telescopes?” I’ve read some stuff about how the mirror for the Hale Telescope was built in the 1930s and 1940s, but today?

Finally: you’ve seen the footage. But do you know the engineering reason(s) why the Tacoma Narrows Bridge collapsed?

Obit watch: October 31, 2020.

October 31st, 2020

Sean Connery. Man, I love that photo. Borepatch. Variety. THR.

I don’t know what I can say that hasn’t been better said by other people. Borepatch beat me on “The Wind and the Lion“. “The Untouchables”. “The Man Who Would Be King”.

And “Zardoz“.

Edited to add: “15 Sean Connery Movies to Stream” from the NYT. Which includes a couple of Bond films, a couple of movies I mentioned above, “The Hunt For Red October”, some other interesting stuff…

…and “The Rock” and “Zardoz”.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 215

October 31st, 2020

A while back, I found a book at Half-Price Books: Body 115: The Mystery of the Last Victim of the King’s Cross Fire (affiliate link, but please do not pay those prices).

Sometime around 7:30 PM on November 18, 1987, somebody threw away a lit match or a burning cigarette butt or something on the escalator at King’s Cross Station in the London Underground. Whatever was burning fell between the wooden treads and apparently landed on something flammable. Later investigation revealed that the underside of the escalator was full of discarded trash, fluff, old grease, and other things that would burn easily.

The resulting fire seemed small and easily controlled. The London Fire Brigade was dispatched at 7:36 PM. The police started evacuating the station at 7:39 PM.

A few minutes later the fire brigade arrived and several firemen went down to the escalator to assess the fire. They saw a fire about the size of a large cardboard box and planned to fight it with a water jet using men with breathing apparatus.

At 7:45 PM, the fire blew up into a flashover. 31 people died.

There was one man who was burned beyond recognition and who the authorities couldn’t identify. He became known as “Body 115”.

In 2004, the unknown man was finally identified as Alexander Fallon.

Body 115 and the King’s Cross fire fascinate me for two reasons. One is the amount of time and effort spent identifying the unknown man. The book is like a good non-fiction detective story, but with no real crime: just the search to put a name to an unknown man and maybe give his people some sense of…closure. It was an extraordinary, multiple organization effort spread across years.

I think sometimes you find people who view things with a certain exceptionalism. “Well, sure, we British would take 16 years to put a name to a unknown fire victim. Do you think they’d do that in America? They’re too busy chasing dope dealers with assault weapons.” Well, yes, actually: look up Little Miss 1565. Or the Boy in the Box. Or “Orange Socks“, to name some US specific examples.

I’m not saying the British or the Americans are superior. I’m saying I think this kind of thing happens in every country, and we don’t hear about most of them unless they grab the public’s imagination. I’m sure there are police officers in Japan or Germany trying to tie names to unknown bodies. Look at the work of EAAF, for another example.

The only exceptionalism involved here is the exceptionalism of being human, of wanting to find answers, solve mysteries, and comfort others.

The other reason King’s Cross fascinates me is the dynamics of the fire. Why did it suddenly go from “the size of a large cardboard box” and easily controllable to a massive flashover?

The Atomic Energy Research Establishment (which had a supercomputer) set up computer simulations of the fire at the request of the investigators. They found something strange: the fire actually laid down along the escalator treads, instead of burning straight up like they expected. The people who set up the simulation actually thought that their code was buggy: maybe they had gravity going the wrong way, or some mistake like that.

So the investigative teams built scale models of King’s Cross, set them on fire…and the fire behaved exactly like the simulation did. The flames laid down along the escalator. The metal sides of the escalator contained the heat and flames, and with the fire laying down on the escalator, it rapidly heated the wooden treads. The treads, under heat, started decomposing and giving off combustible gasses. At the same time, radiant heat directed upwards was heating layers of old paint above the escalator shaft. All of these things combined, but especially the “laying down” behavior of the fire, contributed to the flashover.

That phenomenon became known as the “trench effect“.

Bonus #1: this is an episode of “Seconds From Disaster” that covers the fire itself. It doesn’t spend a lot of time on Body 115, but it does give you a clear idea of what happened and the investigative process.

Bonus #2:

Fire Brigade station officer Colin Townsley was in charge of the first pump fire engine to arrive at the scene and was down in the ticket hall at the time of the flashover. He was killed in the fire; his body was found beside that of a badly burnt passenger at the base of the exit steps to Pancras Road. It is believed that Townsley spotted the passenger in difficulty and stopped to help her.

Station Officer Townsley was posthumously awarded the George Medal.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 214

October 30th, 2020

I thought today I’d post some stuff that I think is just pure fun.

South Texas Pistolero posted a few weeks ago about the Roy Clark Greatest Hits album, and then this popped up: Roy Clark and Johnny Cash play “Folsom Prison Blues”.

Something else that popped up: this excerpt from “The Seven Little Foys”, in which Bob Hope (as Eddie Foy) and James Cagney (as George M. Cohan) do a dance-off.

These two are obviously having so much fun – not just dancing, but playing off each other’s lines. I like this almost as much as I do the Nicholas Brothers routine from “Stormy Weather”. (And both men were in their fifties when this was filmed: that’s some darn fine dancing for men of that age.)

(Historical callback: Eddie Foy was backstage in the Iroquois Theatre preparing to perform when it caught fire. He famously ran out on stage and attempted to calm the crowd and keep them from panicking, even while chunks of burning scenery were falling near him. Foy was widely considered to be one of the heroes of the disaster. And this is dramatized in “The Seven Little Foys”.)

Bonus: I may be stretching other people’s definitions of “fun” here, but you know what I find fun? Advertising fiascos.

Once upon a time (the early 1980s) there was a chain called “Rax Roast Beef”. It was mostly based in the Northeast, but:

At its peak in the 1980s, the Rax chain had grown to 504 locations in 38 states along with two restaurants in Guatemala, and two restaurants in Canada.

But selling roast beef sandwiches wasn’t enough:

During this time, Rax began diversifying its core roast beef sales by adding baked potatoes, pizza and a dinner bar with pasta, Chinese-style food, taco bar, an “endless” salad bar, and a dessert bar. Rax began to transform its restaurants from basic restaurant architecture into designs containing wood elements and solariums, with the intention of becoming the “champagne of fast food”. This transformation drove away its core working class customers, blurred its core business, and caused profits to plunge for Rax as others took advantage of Rax’s techniques and improved on them, as Wendy’s did.

This sounds like a company that is very confused about what their core mission is. But to make a long story shorter…

A new advertising campaign was formulated with Deutsch Inc. to create a new animated character named Mr. Delicious in order to attract adult customers. “Mr. D”, as he was known, was a low-key briefcase-carrying middle-aged divorced man who in addition to promoting Rax restaurants, discussed his mid-life crisis, his time in therapy (so he could, in his own words, “keep his hostility all locked up”), his odd affection for romance novels, and other off-beat topics. The deadpan campaign backfired, causing the exit of the marketing team.

I find this guy kind of annoying (at least in the first 30 seconds or so) but the video is short: “The Commercial that Killed a Fast Food Chain”.

The Mr. Delicious promotional video:

Question: is this the worst fast food promotional campaign ever? The first guy seems to think so, but: was it worse than Herb?

Or The Noid?

Or – and I’m pretty sure Lawrence would argue that this is the worst fast food commercial of all time – the “singing” rat creatures for Quizno’s? That pretty much killed their company, too.

Obit watch: October 30, 2020.

October 30th, 2020

Dan Baum, journalist and author.

He was somewhat famous for being fired by the New Yorker: more specifically, for tweeting about being fired by the New Yorker.

Over three days in May 2009, he tapped out his saga in more than 350 tweets, each less than 140 characters.
The media world, which always paid close-attention to Twitter, hailed the result as a breakthrough in storytelling: Not only was Mr. Baum pulling back the curtain on an august legacy publication; he was also unspooling his tale in real time, one tweet after another. (He learned as he went along not to do things like break up sentences between entries.)
Mr. Baum ended up producing one of the first examples of what is now called a Twitter thread, in which multiple tweets are linked together to provide more information than can be captured in one entry; today, entire novels are written in threads.

He went on to write several books. The NYT singles out Nine Lives: Mystery, Magic, Death, and Life in New Orleans (affiliate link) as his “most acclaimed” book. Among his other books is Gun Guys: A Road Trip (affiliate link), a book that great and good FotB (and official firearms trainer to WCD) Karl Rehn recommends.

NYT obit for Billy Joe Shaver.

Travis Roy.

In the opening seconds of a televised college hockey game on Oct. 20, 1995, Roy, a forward, skated in to body-check an opposing defenseman, crashed into the boards and fell to the ice.
“It was as if my head had become disengaged from my body,” he recalled in a book, “Eleven Seconds: A Story of Tragedy, Courage & Triumph,” written with E.M. Swift. “I was turning the key in the ignition on a cold winter morning, and the battery was completely dead. Not a spark. Just click, and nothing. And right away it passed through my mind I was probably paralyzed.”
He had shattered his fourth and fifth cervical vertebrae. The injury left Roy a quadriplegic. Eventually he regained some movement in his right arm, which he used to work the joystick on his wheelchair.
College hockey is held in awe in Boston, its athletes worshiped and its fallen participants mourned. Shortly after Roy’s accident, more than 200 special church masses and prayer services were held in his honor, according to his father, Lee.
That reverence for the younger Roy grew as he gave motivational speeches and raised money to help those with spinal injuries and to fund research.
The Travis Roy Foundation, established in 1996 to support people with spinal cord injuries, has given nearly $5 million in research grants and helped more than 2,100 quadriplegics and paraplegics, according to its website.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 213

October 29th, 2020

Travel Thursday!

Today’s feature: “Flagships of the Air”, from American Airlines sometime in the 1940s. I picked this for one big reason: it features transcontinental flight on the DC-3, and I love me some DC-3s.

Bonus: We haven’t done a Pan Am video in a bit, and this even fits in with the America! theme. “Wings to Alaska”, from 1965.

Bonus bonus: Nothing to do with travel really, but I remember this song from one of the 8-track tapes we had kicking around in our old Suburban.

Obit watch: October 29, 2020.

October 29th, 2020

Cecilia Chiang has passed away at 100.

She was the woman who brought traditional Mandarin cooking to America.

The Mandarin, which opened in 1962 as a 65-seat restaurant on Polk Street in the Russian Hill section and later operated on Ghirardelli Square, near Fisherman’s Wharf, offered patrons unheard-of specialties at the time, like potstickers, Chongqing-style spicy dry-shredded beef, peppery Sichuan eggplant, moo shu pork, sizzling rice soup and glacéed bananas.
This was traditional Mandarin cooking, a catchall term for the dining style of the well-to-do in Beijing, where family chefs prepared local dishes as well as regional specialties from Sichuan, Shanghai and Canton.
In a profile of Ms. Chiang in 2007, The San Francisco Chronicle wrote that her restaurant “defined upscale Chinese dining, introducing customers to Sichuan dishes like kung pao chicken and twice-cooked pork, and to refined preparations like minced squab in lettuce cups; tea-smoked duck; and beggar’s chicken, a whole bird stuffed with dried mushrooms, water chestnuts and ham and baked in clay.”

The NYT obit mentions Paul Freedman’s Ten Restaurants That Changed America (affiliate link), in which The Mandarin is profiled. My copy was a Christmas gift last year from my beloved and indulgent sister, and it is a swell book that I enthusiastically recommend. (Here’s a pretty good interview with Mr. Freedman from the “Eat My Globe” podcast.)

Billy Joe Shaver, Texas musician.

He was a close friend and associate of Connie Nelson’s ex-husband, Willie Nelson, who recorded many of Shaver’s songs over the years. He performed here often, in settings ranging from the Austin City Limits Music Festival to honky-tonk haven the White Horse. He appeared four times on the TV show “Austin City Limits.”
In addition to releasing his debut album “Old Five and Dimers Like Me” in 1973, he wrote almost all the songs on Waylon Jennings’ landmark album “Honky Tonk Heroes,” released that same year.
A song Jennings and Shaver co-wrote, “You Asked Me To,” was recorded by Elvis Presley in 1975. That was just one of many Shaver songs eventually recorded by hundreds of artists. Among them: “Ride Me Down Easy” (Jerry Lee Lewis), “Georgia on a Fast Train” (Johnny Cash), “Black Rose” (Willie Nelson) and “Live Forever” (actor Robert Duvall, on the soundtrack to the film “Crazy Heart”). Nelson also included Shaver’s song “We Are the Cowboys” on his latest record “First Rose of Spring,” released in July.
Shaver released more than two dozen albums of his own across the ensuing decades, initially for major labels such as Columbia Records and later for indies like New West and Houston-based Compadre. The most recent, “Long in the Tooth,” came out in 2014 on the Lightning Rod label.

South Texas Pistolero has a nice tribute up to Mr. Shaver and Jerry Jeff Walker.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 212

October 28th, 2020

Cocoanut Grove was the worst nightclub fire and the second-worst single building fire in US history.

Those of you who didn’t obsessively read the “disasters” section of the almanac are probably asking: what was the worst?

The Iroquois Theatre was located at 24–28 West Randolph Street, between State Street and Dearborn Street, in Chicago, Illinois. The syndicate that bankrolled its construction chose the location specifically to attract women on day trips from out of town who, it was thought, would be more comfortable attending a theater near the police-patrolled Loop shopping district. The theater opened on November 23, 1903, after numerous delays due to labor unrest and, according to one writer, the unexplained inability of architect Benjamin Marshall to complete required drawings on time. Upon opening the theater was lauded by drama critics; Walter K. Hill wrote in the New York Clipper (a predecessor of Variety) that the Iroquois was “the most beautiful … in Chicago, and competent judges state that few theaters in America can rival its architectural perfections …”

It was advertised as being “absolutely fireproof”. I get the impression that “theatre” in those days was pretty much a synonym for “firetrap”.

An editor of Fireproof Magazine toured the building during construction and noted “the absence of an intake, or stage draft shaft; the exposed reinforcement of the (proscenium) arch; the presence of wood trim on everything and the inadequate provision of exits.” A Chicago Fire Department captain who made an unofficial tour of the theater days before the official opening noted that there were no sprinklers, alarms, telephones, or water connections. The captain pointed out the deficiencies to the theater’s fire warden but was told that nothing could be done, as the fire warden would simply be dismissed if he brought the matter up with the syndicate which owned the theatre. When the captain reported the matter to his commanding officer, he was again told that nothing could be done, as the theater already had a fire warden.

The video I am about to present also suggests that some of the building inspectors may have been bribed. (I know: bribes in Chicago? Who’d thunk it?)

Anyway, you probably see what’s coming. But you may not know how bad it was.

The official death toll, according to Wikipedia, was “at least 602 deaths”.

Bonus #1 and #2: a two-part documentary from the National Fire Protection Association (NFPA) about the MGM Grand Hotel fire of November 21, 1980.

This is a historically interesting fire. The cause of the fire was determined to be an improperly installed refrigerated display case. The copper refrigerant lines ran through the same wall and were in contact with an aluminum electrical conduit. A combination of compressor vibration and galvanic corrosion wore through the conduit and wiring, eventually causing electrical arcing and a smouldering fire. The fire eventually got large enough to become visible: one of the hotel employees sounded an alarm, but then things got really bad.

The fire spread to the lobby, fed by wallpaper, PVC piping, glue, and plastic mirrors, racing west through the casino floor at a speed of 15–19 ft/s (4.6–5.8 m/s; 10–13 mph; 16–21 km/h) until a massive fireball blew out the main entrance along the Las Vegas Strip. From the time the fire was noticed, it took six minutes for the entire building to be fully engulfed. It spread across the areas of the casino in which no fire sprinklers were installed. Eighteen people died in the casino level of the hotel.

A total of 85 people died. 61 of them were on upper levels of the hotel. They were away from the fire, but toxic gasses given off by the burning material were sucked into the air-conditioning system, stairwells, and seismic joints, killing them.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 211

October 27th, 2020

We’ve had war. We’ve had pestilence. We’ve had death. I don’t want to do famine.

How about something kind of fun, and relatively short? “The Railrodder” from the National Film Board of Canada. This popped up in my recs at random, and I think it’s kind of historically interesting: it was one of the last films Buster Keaton ever made, and his very last silent film appearance. (This is from 1965, and is in color.)

I spent some time trying to find Keaton’s Canadian safety video, but it didn’t turn up. So for bonus material: “Buster Keaton Rides Again” a longer video about the making of “The Railrodder”. Sort of. There’s more to it than that. It is also more than twice as long as the “The Railrodder”, but it has great footage of Keaton at work.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 210

October 26th, 2020

When I was a lad in school, we had to read excerpts from The Diary of Samuel Pepys. I didn’t like it much at the time. But now I’m an older person with more enjoyment of history, and I feel Pepys goes down much better when you read him as he intended to be read: in blog form.

And one thing I haven’t really addressed, even in a glancing oblique way, is the current crisis. No, the other one. No, the other other one.

Anyway, I know this is a little long, but there’s a shorter bonus video afterwards.

Bonus: from the same channel, but shorter, scientific, and even thematically appropriate for Halloween: “The Mystery of the Bog Mummies”.

Obit watch: October 26, 2020.

October 26th, 2020

Jerry Jeff Walker.

A waltzing ballad about an old street dancer Mr. Walker had met in a New Orleans drunk tank, “Mr. Bojangles” was first recorded by Mr. Walker for the Atco label in 1968. The song achieved its greatest success in a folk-rock version that reached the pop Top 10 in 1971 with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, and went on to be covered by a wide range of artists, among them Nina Simone, Neil Diamond and even Bob Dylan. Sammy Davis Jr. included it in his stage show and performed it on television.

The song was by far Mr. Walker’s best-known composition, the only original of his — he typically performed songs written by others — to become a major hit. But perhaps his most enduring contribution to popular culture was as an architect of the so-called cosmic cowboy music scene that coalesced around Armadillo World Headquarters, an iconoclastic nightclub in Austin.
The reception Mr. Walker received in Austin, he often said, signaled the first time he felt truly validated as an artist. “Texas was the only place where they didn’t look at me like I was crazy,” he told Rolling Stone in 1974, referring to the freewheeling ethos he cultivated with fellow regulars at Armadillo World Headquarters like Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys and Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen.
“It was the first place where, when I got on the stage to play, they said, ‘Of course, why not?’ Other places, they said, ‘Aw, you’re just another Bob Dylan, trying to make it with your guitar.’”

In a career that spanned six decades, Mr. Walker never had a Top 40 pop hit. But in his 1970s heyday, he and the Lost Gonzo Band, his loose-limbed group of backing musicians, made a number of definitive Texas outlaw recordings.
Foremost was “Up Against the Wall, Redneck Mother,” a boozing, brawling anthem written by Ray Wylie Hubbard that appeared on Mr. Walker’s 1973 album, “Viva Terlingua.”

“Viva Terlingua,” recorded live in Luckenbach, Texas, included other tracks that became signature recordings for Mr. Walker: among them are a dissolute take on Michael Martin Murphey’s “Backsliders Wine,” and “London Homesick Blues,” a tribute to Armadillo World Headquarters, written and sung by Gary P. Nunn of Mr. Walker’s band, with Mr. Walker on backing vocals. With a memorable refrain that began, “I wanna go home with the armadillo,” “London Homesick Blues” later became the theme song of the long-running PBS concert series “Austin City Limits.”

“The mid-’70s in Austin were the busiest, the craziest, the most vivid and intense and productive period of my life,” Mr. Walker wrote in his memoir.
“Greased by drugs and alcohol, I was also raising the pursuit of wildness and weirdness to a fine art,” he wrote. “I didn’t just burn the candle at both ends, I was also finding new ends to light.”