We’re off later to see what will be our latest house starting on Friday. Another moving week ahead.
As I told my dad the other day on FaceTime, “It’s in Hertfordshire, which is pronounced Hartfordsheer.”
“Is that near Midsomer?” he joked.
Some Sunday morning pop music fun. Friends of ours – the husband, specifically – outside of Bristol have a huge collection of old LPs and 45s dating back many decades. We arrived at their house yesterday evening to find Frank Sinatra greeting us on their record player:
You may recall that post I wrote last summer about Frank Sinatra’s Strangers In The Night song. I enjoy settling back now and then to his music. Last night, pre-dinner, I was listening courtesy of my iPad to a Christmas present that had come, uh, my way….
If you don’t understand what all the “fuss” is about regarding Frank Sinatra and would like to, I recommend that Ultimate Sinatra. The 4 CDs version has a helpful background booklet on his life and career. The compliation includes just about everything that marked him out as a distinctive artist.
This post came to mind this morning because our chalet owner here in La Clusaz has had a habit of putting his iPod on the bar and playing Sinatra – even in a room populated mostly by other first-language French speakers. That’s not a shock, though. Sinatra has always been popular here in France:
Whether we like it or not, life is one big risk-taking venture. Yet fearing to fail is one reason most of us don’t try to do what we want to do. Who really wants to look like a fool?
So failure may be in the back of our mind. But I have usually found myself motivated to achieve something positive as being worth the risk of failing. I enjoy proving doubters wrong as well, and although I haven’t always succeeded on that score, whenever I have it has been a tremendously satisfying feeling.
I ventured into fiction-writing because I felt certain that if I put my back into it I could produce novels that would be solid reading. Now, though, I’ve moved my own goal posts. After three semi-biographical/ semi-autobiographical novels, the idea of trying something new within fiction is more than a bit intimidating, and even scary.
Having been mostly in a generally downer (and I admit, sometimes foul) mood due perhaps unsurprisingly to my uncle and then my mother dying two weeks apart in October, Patrina Morris has been a great musical discovery. It’s tough to stay miserable with music like this coming out of your iPhone. How about some Sunday bossa nova:
What we can stumble on thanks to social media. Her site is PatrinaMorris.com. She is also on About.me, as well as Twitter and elsewhere. Keep the Faith and Believe In and other songs are available on Amazon and iTunes.
Given this is relatively off topic compared to what I normally post, why have I told you that?
Laura had been born in upstate New York. She died August 26, 2004 on Long Island – 11 years ago now. Only 52 at the time, she’d died in her sleep of a previously undiagnosed cerebral aneurysm.
For those of us who grew up fans, she was like a local gal who’d “made it.” I saw her perform live once, and won’t ever forget it:
As we know, fictional characters say (or think) what is obvious to them, but what is also not necessarily clear to us. Often we’re “eavesdropping” on them as well. So at any given moment we may know more than they do, or know less. It all depends:
Incorporating subtle references to the 1990s and the years just prior (which are part of their own “recent” life memories), is just a bit of fun. Music, television and film favorites are part of that. We know life can’t always be treated so seriously, of course.