Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: Featured (Page 33 of 43)

Off to see the Wizard…

You don’t have to be ‘off’ to see the wizard. States of inebriation help, perhaps, but are not required. (Kidding…) In reference to the classic from L. Frankie, Mr. Baum – he had his own wizardry and I finally got around to it.

Restless sleep last night. Weird nightmare. Had nothing to do, I pretty sure, with the late night reading.

I finished up The Wonderful Wizard of Oz before shutting off the light.

When I was a kid, I remember those scary flying monkeys that whipped Dorothy off to the Wicked Witch’s lair. That was pretty scary stuff. The part that REALLY got me was that airborne, bicycle riding, dressed in flowing-black, cackling crazy-laughter, outside-in-the-wind, schoolmarm-from-heck. Oh, man.

Then, there were those Ooompa-looompa-kind-of guards marching around like stormtroopers, chanting in unison, Yo-oh! Yo-ee-oh! Yo-oh! Yo-ee-oh! Maybe I was a sheltered child, but those guys made me pretty nervous, too.

In his preface, L. Frank Baum explains that he wanted to write a children’s story that was free of all the scary elements of the Grimm Brother’s fairy tales. No children-eating witches. No woodcutter’s wives leaving the kids out in the forest. He wanted a pleasant little story that could be taken in without the risk of nightmares.

For the most part, he succeeded. And for the most part, the famous movie did Mr. Baum justice. All the elements are there from his book: the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, and Toto the dog. The Yellow Brick Road leads to Oz and there is that dreadful field of poppies that is so vast that it cannot be crossed without being overcome from breathing in the pleasant but poisonous scent.

The twister lifts Dorothy in the farmhouse and lands her on the Wicked Witch, saving the Munchkins – same – movie and book. The witch’s feet sticking out from underneath wearing Silver Slippers.

What?

Silver slippers?

Everyone knows Dorothy inherited ruby slippers. In fact, the shoes that Judy Garland wore in the 1939 film are in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History. It was just last October that the Museum announced it was making a rare loan of the slippers to a British museum.

In the book, though, they are silver slippers. They do have a magical power, but in an unusual occasion of the screenwriters getting it correct, the visual magic works a lot better than Mr Baum’s version.

You see, in the novel, Dorothy can wish herself home while wearing the silver slippers, and she does so – with not an ounce of pizzazz.

Dorothy: I wish I was back in dreary Kansas.

Shoes: Seems like a wasted wish, but – Boom! There you go.

Dorothy, back in Kansas: Should have picked Vegas. Or even Branson.

Everyone knows that – in the movie – Dorothy clicks the heels of her ruby-red slippers together and repeats “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

Whiskety-whisk! She’s back in Kansas, on the bed with all her friends gathered around. Ahhhh. It was all a dream. A drug-induced psychedelic meth-trip (just kidding… We know what a straight-shooter Dorothy was.). All her friends were there, and it was all beautiful, but…

There’s no place like home.

Mr. Baum played it a little more low-key. Slippers (Silver) on, got the wish working. Bang! Dorothy is back in Kansas, tossed-down-like in the dusty farmland.

Dorothy, picking herself up: I’m back in dreary Kansas!

Aunty Em: There you are, Dorothy. Get washed up for dinner now. There’s chores later.

The return from the Wonderful Land of Oz and the Emerald City is about as matter-of-fact as it could possibly have been written. Oh, you’re back then. Good deal. Let’s go clean out the pigsty.

On second thought, maybe that troubling end had something to do with my sleep issues. Something about a plot-stealing monster that made off with the great ending for L. Frank Baum’s Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

I Woke up and didn’t recognize any of those people standing around my bed.

Come get a copy and read it for yourself!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main, Broken Arrow, OK
918-258-3301

Associated Memories…

This one works for me. Grusin’s Mountain Dance. I think if I awoke to this song everyday, each morning would be a pleasure. It’s playing just now on the bookshop’s radio.

We all like different things, of course. Otherwise, there’d be just one song and we’d listen to it over and over. And we’d love it. We’d love it so much we wouldn’t need any other song. If we all liked the same things, we’d like the same book and would never have to read another – that’s how much we’d love that favorite one. We’d just read it until the pages fell out (or the Kindle went dead).

Naturally, I don’t expect everyone to have the same feelings about the music of Dave Grusin, but I know you know him – one way or another. If his name is unfamiliar, maybe his music isn’t. He won an Oscar for his musical score for the film The Milagro Beanfield War. He was nominated for his music for The Fabulous Baker Boys, The Firm, On Golden Pond, and others. His original song, “It Might Be You” for the Dustin Hoffman film Tootsie was nominated for an Academy Award. There was a TV show called St. Elsewhere that had a really catchy theme song. Dave Grusin was responsible for that one too.

There are nearly a dozen other movies that have his music as the soundtrack.

Mountain Dance – for me – is just a great, uplifting song; it’s one that has memories associated with it. Just hearing it reminds me of morning drive on 92.9 and that era when they let me run down to the music store and pick out songs to play during my shift.

It may be presumptuous to offer it here, but – should you feel curious – you can click HERE to give Mountain Dance a listen.

I was like a kid in a candy store. The Rippingtons. David Benoit (it was his music on those Charlie Brown animated TV specials, another feel-gooder…). Chet Atkins. Yellowjackets. Pat Metheny. Bob James. Some people called it Weather Channel jazz back then. It was never background music for me, though. I can play ol’ Dave front and center.

Those days are long gone, I assure you. Not just my time on that radio station, but the days when deejays could select their own music. It always had to fit in with the format, of course – but at that time Dave Grusin’s Mountain Dance fit – just fine.

You shouldn’t think that I sit around pining for those Good Old Days. Nah. I don’t have a lot of time for things like that. But those things that strike a genuine chord – like White Divinity (that’s another hardwired associated memory, but another story entirely) – there is no way to avoid the brain-splash.

And it’s nice when the sudden reflection evokes good memories.

Don’t have Dave, but there are scores and sheet music – along with some biographies – over in the music section…

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main, Broken Arrow OK
918-252-3301

Here now, the weather from BEYOND…

Clichés. Don’t you love them? Maybe yes, maybe no – but they are painfully difficult to avoid and just plain painful when they get mixed.

Case in point?

Live storm coverage from Dick Faurot. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not picking on Mr Faurot, as I appreciate his style and experience. Those guys doing the weather on television get a lot of grief, and it isn’t my intention to pile on here.

The radar was indicating tornadoes Saturday night and I was watching an interesting Sherlock Holmes show that fell victim to the storm coverage. (Sometimes I think we all are victims of the advanced technology that allows the TV weather folks to ramble on about “what’s going on.” Mr. Faurot’s words, not mine.)

Oh, wow. We’re going back to programming now. The show, that gives clues leading up to a conclusion, will have presented the evidence during our storm-break. We’ll see how that turns out when we are returned to regular programming.

Back to those mixed clichés. The phrase “In the Field” has been around for awhile. We have a reporter “in the field” and will have a report from him/her shortly. Maybe this one has gone by the wayside a bit, although I remember it well. Just as I am dismissing it here – Mr. Faurot has just used that phrase to describe one of his weather reporters. In the field. Oh, yeah. That guy is most certainly out “in the field.” Not in a car, truck, or van. He’s in the field. Yeah. Sure.

“On the Ground” is a new cliché that reporters these days try to work in at any opportunity. I’m not exactly certain why clichés are better than simple words. Maybe there is a cachet that is attached to phrases that are thrown around by the network big-boys/girls. Hearing them in a news report may cause other reporters to “jump on the bandwagon” (an old-school cliché) and work them into their stories.

Oh. Severe weather coverage is over. Back to network TV programming. Ooops. I’ve missed the conclusion of the program I was watching, due to the storm coverage. No more Sherlock Holmes. He was quick to present his own suppositions, and I suppose I can make up my own ending, based on the clues presented before the storm interruption.

Back to the case in point: here is the mixed cliché result from Mr. Faurot, part of his description of the weather activity in the Muskogee area. A tornado was indicated by radar, but there was no visual confirmation from spotters, which he wanted to point out.

Dick Faurot: We don’t have confirmation from anyone IN THE GROUND.”

Not “On the ground.” Not “In the field.” He landed on a mix of the two to tell us that nobody confirmed – from their graves, presumably – that a tornado had passed over. That is to say: No one IN THE GROUND confirmed the passage of a twister in the Muskogee area.

Spotters, they are called. Those folks who call in to assist the TV station in their coverage of serious weather events. Wouldn’t those reports be so much better if all those who are currently six-feet-under could add to the reporting?

Mr. Faurot, during a severe weather outbreak: We go now to Mount Carmel Cemetery and the Earthly remains of Miss Joyce Wachthewether, who – during her regular life – loved to watch the weather. Miss Joyce? What are you seeing from your vantage point IN THE GROUND?

Ms. Wachthewether: Well, to be honest, it’s mostly dark here – but I’m guessing that’s due to the bad weather. I’m hearing some whisking winds and it may be a good time to seek shelter underground.

Mr. Faurot: Thank you Ms. Wachthewether. We go now to John Adriver, who is on the Muskogee Turnpike, on the fringe of the storm.

The programming that had been ended tonight on KOTV for storm coverage has not been interrupted for the past fifteen minutes, which tells me that that previous break-in… the one that caused me to miss the end of the show I was watching – was mostly frivolous. Aaaaahh. I take that back. Not frivolous. But certainly, unnecessary.

Better to be safe than sorry – from a meteorologist’s point of view.

But many of us weren’t in the Muskogee area. Maybe most of us. It’s too bad that those TV weather reports, in this age of technology, cannot be targeted to the specific region in potential danger.

It’s also too bad that we can’t get on the scene reports from those correspondents IN THE GROUND. When I’m six-feet-under, I plan on making regular reports on the weather, the expressway traffic, and national politics. Check in with KOTV for reports from those of us – In the ground.

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