Happy Birthday to canned beer!

It was 72 years ago today that canned beer was first sold to the public. Eventually canned beer led to the demise of the literally thousands of local breweries, as the big national breweries were now able to ship their product all over the country.

In 1935, the Gottfried Krueger Brewing Company delivered 2,000 cans of Krueger's Finest Beer and Krueger's Cream Ale to the thirsty in Richmond, Virginia. It mushroomed from there, and today half the beer sold in this country comes in cans.



To learn more, go to This Day On History. They even have a canned beer video. Indeed, there is even a Canned Beer History website.
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Lyrics to Jimmy Driftwood's Tennessee Stud

Here are the lyrics to one of my favorite bluegrass songs by one of my favorite bluegrass performers. Doc Watson performed a masterful version with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band on their "Will The Circle Be Unbroken?," the album that hooked me on the 'grass.


Tennessee Stud
by Jimmy Driftwood


Along about eighteen and twenty-five
I left Tennessee very much alive
I never would have got through the Arkansas mud
If I hadn't been a-ridin on the Tennessee stud

I had some trouble with my sweetheart's pa
One of her brothers was a bad outlaw
I sent her a letter by my Uncle Fud
And I rode away on the Tennessee stud

CHORUS:
The Tennessee stud was long and lean
The color of the sun and his eyes were green
He had the nerve and he had the blood
And there never was a hoss like the Tennessee stud

One day I was ridin' in the beautiful land
And ran smack into an Indian band
They jerked their knives with a whoop and a yell
But I rode away like a bat out of hell

Well I circled their camp for a time or two
And showed what a Tennessee hoss could do
And them redskin boys never got my blood
'Cause I was a-ridin' on the Tennessee stud

CHORUS

We drifted on down into no man's land
We crossed the river called the Rio Grande
I raced my hoss with the Spaniards bold
Till I got me a skin full of silver and gold

Me and a gambler we couldn't agree
We got in a fight over Tennessee
We jerked our guns, he fell with a thud
And I got away on the Tennessee stud

CHORUS

Well, I got as lonesome as a man can be
Dreamin' of my girl in Tennessee
The Tennessee stud's green eyes turned blue
'Cause he was a-dreamin' of a sweetheart too

We loped on back across Arkansas
I whipped her brother and I whipped her pa
I found that girl with the golden hair
And she was ridin' on a Tennessee mare

CHORUS

Stirrup to stirrup and side by side
We crossed the mountains and the valleys wide
We came to Big Muddy and we forded the flood
On the Tennessee mare and the Tennessee stud

Pretty little baby on the cabin floor
Little hoss colt playin' 'round the door
I love the girl with golden hair
And the Tennessee stud loves the Tennessee mare

CHORUS

©1958 Warden Music Company, Inc. (BMI)
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The Seattle Olympic Sculpture Park Opens!

Last weekend's New York Times article told the story. NYC has sculpture park envy! And well they should. Somehow Seattle assembled nine acres of prime land and beach north of Pier 70. We couldn't get our act together to build a train or subway system, or to fix our decrepit Viaduct or the Rosselini Floating Bridge, but that's another rant. This is a time to celebrate. The park is a home run, as much for the sculpture as the park itself—a tour de force of architectural landscaping. WEISS / MANFREDI Architecture created this z-shaped park running from Western Avenue to Elliott Bay. The PACCAR Pavilion has sweeping views of the Olympic Mountains. My only regret about the park is that they couldn't somehow level one office building so you could view the Seattle P.I. globe, just up the block from the park. It's a nineteen-ton pop masterpiece.

We attended the park's grand opening on Sunday. Online, you can take an interactive tour or visit the Seattle Art Museum's web site.

Unfortunately, none of the photographs I've seen of the park do it justice. If you follow the trails, the park leads, eventually, to a beautiful pebble beach, with piles of driftwood to arrange and rearrange into forts and ad hoc sculptures. The beachfront includes a salmon haven (habitat?) of some sort.

There are three levels of art at work: bridges over the road and railroad tracks, trellises, native plantings (I think Salal and Oregon Grape, etc.) , cool benches and walkways and paths up the hills and down to the beach; sculptural works by the likes of Louise Nevelson, Mark di Suvero, Alexander Calder, Richard Serra, and many others, and installations and exhibits in the pavillion. Is this cool, or what?
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Poem: Changes 29/The Abysmal

1
Every step forward or backward
Leads into danger
With no hope of escape

Only survival
Like a manacled prisoner
Behind grey concrete walls

2
The abyss
Is filled to the rim
And action only mires

You in danger
Plunging you further
Into the abyss

3
To survive you must be like water
Surging in over around and through
Filling up all the places

Through which it flows
From the cataracts
To the waterfalls

In your cage you must be you
Where nothing makes you
Lose the way

Where nothing
Makes you
Lose yourself.
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For Pete from NYC, Robert Hershon's poem Ichabod

Responding to Pete's comment here.

I seem to recall a poem you published once (in email I think, not in the literary sense) that ended something like 'the shitheads that run the show.' Always like that one. How about reprise? --Posted by Pete to all this is that at 1/21/2007 07:03:23 PM

Alas, it wasn't mine, but the poem of Robert Hershon, a guy we knew in NYC, a poet, publisher, and editor. He has published over 10 books of his own poems, and through his press, Hanging Loose, published hundreds of other folks. Hershon's Hanging Loose does two incredible things: 1) They never ever let a book go out of print; and 2) Their literary magazine always includes the works of fledgling poets (high school students). Bob writes some of the most trenchant and funny poetry I have ever read. This particular poem was written at least 20 years ago, but it might very well have been written about the current Presidential Administration. Here is his poem Ichabod.


Ichabod

Everyone's first name means
Beloved of the Lord
or Bearer of Glad Tidings
or Valiant in Battle

except Ichabod
which means The Glory
has Departed

and must be considered
the name for the future
along with The Liar is Thriving
Unbearable Cruelty and
The Shitheads are Running the Show

- Robert Hershon

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Index to Jack Brummet poems on All This Is That

The I-ching poems (18-28 are new):

Changes One/Action
Changes Two/The Receptive
Changes Three/Trouble Ahead
Changes Four/The Young Shoot
Changes Five/The waiting
Changes Six/Conflict
Changes Seven/The Army
Changes Eight/Holding Together
Changes Nine/The taming power of the small
Changes Ten/treading
Changes Eleven/Peace
Changes twelve/standing still
Changes 13/Fellowship
Changes 14/Possession
Changes 15/The Armies Of The Night
Changes 16/Enthusiasm, or, the king begins to falter
Changes 17/Following
Changes 18/Fixing what has spoiled
Changes 19/The Approach
Changes 20/Contemplation
Changes 21/Biting Through
Changes 22/Grace
Changes 23/Splitting Apart
Changes 24/The Turning Point (for S.A.D.)
Changes 25/The Unexpected
Changes 26/The Taming Power of the Great
Poem: Changes 27/Taking Care
Poem: Changes 28/ Ta Kuo—Preponderance of the Great

New Poems (i-ching poems 18-28 are also new):

Poem: 3 A.M.

I'm agnostic about atheism

Snow Day In Kirkland, Washington

Squirrel poem

Going Mad Might Be Like A Bad Eight Track Tape Deck

Fall Haiku

Jericho & How Joshua Caused The Walls To Come Tumbling Down

The Orgy In The Pantry (starring Duncan Hines, Betty Crocker, Pilsbury Dough Boy, Aunt Jemima, Chef Boy-Ar-Dee and more)

Poem:With Or Without The Words

Hello. . .My poem is. . .

_____________________________

Previous poems:

You Gather Your Friends
The Way We Were
Scarred for life
The White Flag
The Cover-up
The Good German
Dream Of The Grey
Torches & Pitchforks
The Red Flag
Don't look back
The Tenth Planet (Or An Incredible Facsimile?)
Anger management is a slippery slope
the vault
The Moon's In Tune
Another politician resigns in disrace
Changes Nine/The taming power of the small
Rub-a-dub
Tendrils
The Candidate
Reds
Making Room
The revolt in heaven
Found Poem: The Richmond Hill Oracle Poem (and painting): The Robot Wars
I don't believe I'm here
Ten ways of looking at lies
The Broken Chord
With our heads in the sand during the transit and eclipse
the sun plays its red song
Litany
Poem: The Developers
A raindrop's life
The mystery of the first amendment to the Ten Commandments
The Bay Of Delusion
Mad Song
Reasons To Keep On
Conspiracy Theory The Moon Race
Mr. Flue's Grave In Hillcrest Cemetary, Kent, Wash.
The World Seems Especially Calming And Verisimilitudinous Today
Kent, Washington
Rollover
[It's the Lee Harvey Oswald smile]
Zombie Breakdown
Heaven
The Variations
You Rehearse Dying
Sonnet For Hari
Defensive Daydreaming
The Dream
Dogpaddling
The Prostethic Head & The Absence Of Blood
Tetuan - "No Paranoia, My Friend"
The Grey Visitors & Painting:
The Grey Ambassador
The Bad Movie
The Bucket
The Man In The Mirror
Liftoff
Optimism
Perspective A Flight Of Swallows
Audioblog - The Prevaricator
Weather Report
Your Wooden Leg
The Revelations Sermon At The First Church Of The Mojo Apocalypse
Dosvidaniya, Ivan Ivanovitch The Late Excavation (Text And Audio)
Jack Kerouac, Meet John Barleycorn
The Gideon Bible In My Nightstand
At The Acropolis
When Aliens Land, Or, The Return Of The King
The sous-chef is a sociopath]
James Wright
Falling
[Life Is Not A Hardy Novel]
Seven
Coyote Comes Home Like A Salmon
Shorts For Jerry Melin ca. about 1988
Bird
Monism
The Golden Rule
The Countdown
When Aliens Land, Or, The Return Of The King
AT HILLCREST CEMETARY IN KENT, WASHINGTON, I WALK BY THE GRAVE OF SAM THE GRASSEATER
Notes On Flying
Daybreak
Explosions
Not Past Tense Yet
the glass is not half-full
It's Getting Crowded Here
Li Po In Disgrace
The Clock
A Love Song
Bad Timing
The Killer
The Absence of Footprints Growing Up
Gone Fishing
The M.D.s
A Poem - Acrylic
The Marriage
Driving Home To Seattle, We Watch Deer Drinking from the Skookumchuck River
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Poem: Changes 26/The Taming Power of the Great

A good horse
Follows the others
Because they have somewhere to go

It furthers one
To cross the great water
Because Heaven lies within

Heaven lies
Nestled deep within
The windswept snowcapped mountain
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Poem: Changes 25/The Unexpected

If someone is not as he should be
He develops
The reverse Midas Touch

Under heaven
Thunder rolls
Thus the old kings

Fostered everything
With a heartbeat
We cannot lose

What really belongs to us
Even when we throw it away
The gathering winds

Blow through my heart
Reverberating in the echo chamber
Of regret.
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Alien Lore No. 97—Air Force Colonel Sees A UFO In Arkansas

photo by Col. Brian Fields - click to enlarge. The yellow lights in a
triangle were seen on Jan. 9 near Van Buren, Ark. The red lights
are from a local radio tower


WorldNetDaily.com has reported a retired Air Force Colonel, Brian Fields, spotted a UFO in Arkansas last week. This UFO sighting follows closely on the heels of the very recent Chicago sightings.

"I believe these lights were not of this world, and I feel a duty and responsibility to come forward," Col. Brian Fields told World Net Daily. "I have no idea what they were."

Just before 7 p.m., on January 9th, he saw two bright lights as he looked to the southeast close to the horizon.

"At first I thought they were landing lights from an aircraft," he said. "As I continued to observe them they began to slowly disappear, then suddenly one reappeared, followed by two, then three. On at least one occasion four or five appeared. Each time they would slowly fade and eventually disappear. This occurred several times and when they would reappear they might do so in differing numbers and in different positions, sometimes in a triangular shape, sometimes stacked on top of each other, sometimes line abreast, etc. When the objects appeared they might stay illuminated 10 or more minutes."

Fields' wife thought the lights may have been ground-based, but Fields says he's certain they were airborne. The retired colonel spent close to 32 years in the military, flying F-16s as a member of the 188th Fighter Wing of the Arkansas Air National Guard.

"I'm certain it wasn't an aircraft [from Earth]," said Fields. " Click here to read the entire story on WorldNetDaily.com.
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Poem: Changes 28/ Ta Kuo—Preponderance of the Great

1
The ridgepole sags to the breaking point
The wood is stout
At the center of gravity

But the pressure
Is at the margins
You cannot change the pine

Because it is what it is
So you must change
The triggering condition

But you
Are not
God

2
The lake rises
Over the treetops
Caution 'though it seems exaggerated

Is no mistake
The enterprise cannot succeed
Without caution

In laying the foundation
And bracing
The ridgepole

3
You must go through the water
Even when it goes over your head
Even when you surrender life

So goodness
And the right prevail
There are things more important

Than life
Or so they say
But I can't think of what they might be.
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Is this cool or what? 4D scanning...

Triplets: in utero

A new, highly developed form of ultrasound is allowing us to see things we've never seen before. The fascinating article, with picture gallery is here.
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The majority of women are now living without a spouse

According to a New York Times analysis of census results, in 2005, 51 percent of women said they were living without a spouse, up from 35 percent in 1950 and 49 percent in 2000.

"In 2005 married couples became a minority of all American households for the first time, the trend could ultimately shape social and workplace policies, including the ways government and employers distribute benefits.

"Several factors are driving the statistical shift. At one end of the age spectrum, women are marrying later or living with unmarried partners more often and for longer periods. At the other end, women are living longer as widows and, after a divorce, are more likely than men to delay remarriage, sometimes delighting in their newfound freedom. "

As Aimee Mann wrote:

"You fucked it up
You should've quit
Till circumstances
Had changed a bit

You fucked it up
You jumped the gun
I swore you off but
You climbed back on

And when you said
Of course you know
Could I be blamed
If I'd wished it so
I don't think so."
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