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Carol Lee S. The short answer is: the show is entertainment and native music is religious, the show is comedy and white people cannot do comedy about native people. We've had a few native musical groups on and they did not seem comfortable about performing as part of a variety show and the time constraints were rather brutal. The place to hear native music in all its glory is at a powwow which operates on a whole other sense of time. For better or worse, the show reflects the taste of the founder and that is far from all-inclusive. Permalink | Comments (1)
You don't know, Nathaniel, but you can guess and one good way to measure your work is to read it aloud. Read it to yourself. You'll be able to hear the awkward or pretentious parts and detect gaps in the narrative and problems of logic. And then, after you rewrite it, try reading it to somebody else. Somebody other than the dog. They probably won't even have to say a word—you can hear what's wrong yourself. The basis of writing is one person telling another person a story, and it's always good to go back to basics.
Thanks, The tour show that will go around in August and early September is a concert version of the radio show. There is some Guy Noir, but no Dusty & Lefty. There is Fred Newman and his sound effects, and the Guy's All Star Shoe Band and singer Suzy Bogguss and me—some duets, the news from Lake Wobegon, and of course commercials for rhubarb. Permalink | Comments (2)
Pat C. If misspelling drove me nuts, Pat, I'd be under heavy medication most of the time. Very bright people send me letters every day saying "let's not go their" and I don't babble or screech, I just make a mental note not to hire them. As for the sonnet, here it is: Here I am O Lord and here is my prayer: Not a classic Shakespearean or Spenserian sonnet, but a sonnet nonetheless, or so say I. The recent Bed of Roses Sonnet Contest produced some entries that I picked to read on the show that drew complaints from traditionalists because the sonnets weren't iambic pentameter or were unrhymed, but I am 65 and beyond caring about that. What is freedom if we can't use it? I remember the White House Correspondents Dinner. I went through the metal detectors, my speech in my vest pocket, and was ushered into a room full of senators and White House people, all of whom seemed to know each other, all of them mingling and making small talk, no partisanship visible at all, which is startling to us neophytes — to see Senator Stevens of Alaska chuckling with Senator Kennedy — but that's the beauty of politics, civility. I sat next to Mrs. Clinton and we talked about the Supreme Court — Justice Blackmun had just resigned and President Clinton was to fill the seat — and I asked her if she ever got to visit the Court and she replied, rather wittily, that she didn't think she should since the Court might be taking up a case involving a member of her family. And then she turned to her right and spent most of the dinner talking to Speaker Dennis Hastert, who was more important for her to talk to. I had agonized about the speech. Traditionally it's a comic turn by a comedian but to do that would've meant plowing through the same Monica material that every comedian had been doing for months, and so I struck out in a different direction and gave a sermon. I was pretty sure that it disappointed most of the crowd and I don't think it made any difference to the Clintons who were sort of prisoners of the occasion. I walked away alone through the lobby of whatever enormous hotel it was held in and a very dapper Sidney Blumenthal came over and told me he thought it was a good speech and I was awfully grateful for that. I went back to my room and crawled into bed and got up early in the morning and flew home. So much for fame. (In New York there would've been a party after the dinner but in Washington a lot of those people had 7 a.m. meetings to attend.) I'd be happy to send you the speech and I thought I would've saved it on my hard drive but I can't find it. One less thing to read. Permalink | Comments (1)
Margo H. Not sure I should tell you, Margo, since the Disney company can be mean and litigious and sic its hairy-handed lawyers on you for the slightest little thing, but the hymn fits the Mickey Mouse song very nicely. Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me, |
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