kajean

I remember "Baton Bugs". The von Suppe piece is "The Light Cavalry Overture", another of my favorites. The others I don't remember, but then, I'm an octogenarian; it's a wonder I remember to get out of bed. There're quite a few pop pieces based on classical music. Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff, Mussorgsky, Saint-Saëns, Borodin, Beethoven, Dvorak, J.S. Bach, Mozart, to name a few. And not to mention pieces that are perennially popular just for themselves: "Sorcerer's Apprentice", "Danse Macabre","On the Beautiful Blue Danube", "William Tell" (Hi-yo, Silver, and away!) or the many quasi classical pieces like Sousa's marches or Gilbert & Sullivan's operettas. Again, it's endless. And all of it based on just seven notes! Incredible! Now that we've beaten the musical horse to death, it's time to get back your story 😉.

Well, my bingeing for today is over. I have obligations in the morning, so I better get to bed. And the end of Chapter 6 is a good place to stop for the night. The end of the current adventure. Tomorrow afternoon when I can pick up the remaining two chapters should be more fun with the boys on the next part of their lives. Thanks, Bill, for another great chapter. And Frisbee golf sounds like a lot of fun. Our City Park here in town has something similar. It sounds like it would be a fun game to play along with dogs. Perhaps Devin in his canine persona could play it with Bailey? Okay, I'm rambling now. So good night, all.

A lot of folks were introduced to classical music by those Warner Bros. Looney Tunes. In my case, it wasn't the cartoons themselves, but rather a phonograph record. I was in second grade. One of the girls brought in a record of music from the Looney Tunes. There was a piece called "Daffy's Rhapsody". I loved it. I listened to it over and over and over. I couldn't get enough of it. Many years later, of course, I learned it was actually Franz Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 1. And I still love it. And I've never seen the cartoon that used it. The Bugs Bunny cartoon (see the clip above from Anton_Cloche) hilariously used the Overture from Rossini's equally hilarious opera "The Barber of Seville". Another Warner Bros. cartoon available on YouTube is "Inky and the Mynah Bird". The theme for the mynah bird is Felix Mendelssohn's Overture No. 26, "Fingal's Cave". Back in the 40's there was a strike in Hollywood of the movie composers, so the studios, needing music for their cartoons, used classical music which was in the public domain. And a generation of people was exposed to the music of the old masters. And I, for one, am grateful for the lifetime of pleasure it has given me. My mother thought that any music that wasn't country or church hymns was evil. The very best music was country stars singing church hymns. To the day she died, some 22 years ago, she was still apologizing to friends for my love of classical music. "I just don't know where he gets it. We certainly didn't raise him that way." Dad had been classically trained on violin, so he overruled her when she tried to forbid me from buying classical music LPs. She'd be horrified to see my collection of hundreds and hundreds of classical CDs and LPs 😄. I think I'll listen to Dvorak's Ninth Symphony while continuing to binge 😉. Still having a lot of fun with this story. Thanks, Bill.

Well, I must say that I'm going to have to side with Mac's mom on those extreme rides. When I was much younger, I yearned to visit amusement parks, but only got to do so once. Now these days, heights don't exactly terrify me, but I don't seek them either. When I stand up, the floor looks an awful distance down to me. So extreme rides are not on my bucket list. Yet, way back in the mid 60's when I first moved to Dallas, a friend of mine and I would go downtown after dark and up to the roof of one of the office buildings. There we were 40 stories up with our toes hanging off the edge of the building (no guard rails or wall). The very thought of our stupidity absolutely chills me now, but then, it was rather exciting. I'm not familiar with 4-D Motion Theaters (perhaps because I've never frequented amusement parks?), but I'm reminded of attending a matinée many years ago of the movie Earthquake (Charleton Heston, Ava Gardner, etc.) when it was on its original road tour. It used a process termed "Sensurround". At the beginning of the screening, an announcement appeared that the theater management was not responsible for any adverse reactions the audience might experience due to Sensurround. Of course, many members of the audience laughed and jeered. But at the end of the movie, I noticed that I was not the only one who was disoriented and having difficulty leaving the theater. The process used massive low-level woofer speakers to project very low frequency sound which simulated an earthquake. It was very effective. And if one can find (search eBay) for a colorized version of the old movie "San Francisco" (Clark Gable, Jeannette McDonald, etc.), the original mono soundtrack is re-processed into quasi stereo. I believe this Turnerized version is available only on VHS. The point is that in the last act of the movie when the infamous 1906 earthquake, which all but leveled San Francisco, begins, the sound seems to begin under the floor and then takes over the room -- at least, it does in my home theater with full fidelity surround sound. So this may be early versions of 4-D Motion? So all this and perhaps an evil skinwalker, too? And bullies! Oh, my! Wonderful chapter, Bill.

Well, so-called "classical" involves numerous genres and periods all by itself. So who can list them all? And frequently the genres and styles merge and blur from all periods, middle-ages to the current scene. Remember Emerson, Lake, and Palmer? They did great rock-style versions of classical music. So was that rock or classical? And the Beatles were classically trained, which is why their music lends itself to symphonic treatments so easily. Sir Paul writes classical music with a distinct rock flavor to it. And Andrew Lloyd Webber writes musicals that are closer to operas than anything else. Elvis sang a lot of classical folk music in a rockabilly style. The discussion of music is as vast as all of humanity, so it is as unfathomable as it is vast. Okay, back to bingeling.

Ah, Glenwood Springs! I haven't been there since I was a teenager (a couple of weeks or so ago😄). I used to have relatives there. I remember it as a pretty little town, and it probably still is. I've never been one who was much for travel, though I have done quite a bit of it, so all these excursions tire me out just reading about them 😄. These days, my idea of a road trip is going across town (sometimes a whole three miles!) if I can get someone to drive me. And even then I have to plan and psych myself into the expedition. My doctor's office is directly across the street, and THAT is a major journey. "Mountain Dew". When I was quite my small, we had a spring-wound Victrola 78 RPM with a few (highly breakable) records. Gene Autry's "Wave to Me, My Lady" (not blue grass) was one of my favorites. But my most favorite was Lulu Belle and Scotty singing "Mountain Dew". You could always tell when the spring in the phonograph was winding down because the music would change pitch downwards and slowly drag toward a stop. As you wound the spring back up, the music would speed up and go back to its normal timbre. I remember it was always fun to listen to those old records. As for music being generational, I agree that many of today's young people have really eclectic tastes. I was at a high school graduation party this weekend, and the music was from the late 50's-early 60's. The graduating senior (movie-star-leading-man handsome!) danced ballroom style with his grandmother to 50's rock-n-roll. My preference has been classical since I was in second grade (again, just a couple of weeks ago😄), and I find the young people I introduce to this music are fascinated and go searching for it. But I am not above a good pop song or three. And as to white water rafting, I'm not sure they'd let me take my walker on board. Enjoyable chapter, Bill. More bingeing to go.

I can't believe I missed this continuation, especially since I was eagerly awaiting it. But here it is, and I am bingeing today! Good start to the saga. My only equivocation is the Cactus Blossom. I am extremely allergic to onion in almost all its forms. To the point that the mere mention of the Cactus Blossom (and even onion rings), makes my stomach queasy. For some reason, onion powder used as a little bit of seasoning doesn't seem to bother me, but any other form or type of onion is a disaster. That said, however, the rest of the meals sound delightful. Texas Roadhouse does serve some outstanding baby-back ribs! And their dinner rolls are to die for. Now what delights await our intrepid protagonists on their next vacation with Mac's parents? Since I'm bingeing, I won't have to wait very long to find out....

I laughed all the way through this chapter. Hilarious. Such fun! I am so glad I was not at that dinner party. Though it might have been fun to have been the proverbial fly on the wall. Rowena is a keeper. Suffers no fools. Tania, Rolph, Venetia; pity the fools. And I loved Gray's assessment of Felicity as a "professional widow". Not sure what that actually is, but it does seem to fit many of the ladies living in the retirement center where I also live. So, dear author, another triumph of a chapter.

I laughed myself silly all through this chapter. Thanks for the fun. The dialogue was hilarious. Thanks again.

Based on the previous story about this group, I thought the same thing.

Language does change all the time. That is the very nature of it. I have three degrees in English with minors in four other languages, two of them classical languages. Those two classical languages still exist in modern forms, but they have changed enormously. And over my eight decades I've watched (mostly with amusement) English change. Slang comes and goes, but always some of it sticks and becomes an integral part of the language. I hope it's obvious I enjoy language -- especially English -- with ALL its vagaries. To me, fighting the good fight isn't so much trying to hang on to the old styles, but defending the changes as they become entrenched. Thanks for the comment, Gary.

I've got to stick my two dollars in (inflation, don't you know). With everyone being hyper-grammatical today -- and I agree with all of it -- I must take dear Summerabbacat to task for one further faux pas. The verb in the second clause in the above quoted compound sentence should be in the subjunctive mood: "if I were Graham". With your usual precise use of English I'm sure this is just one of those typos that plague all of us. In my lifetime I've written several million words, and no matter how carefully I write AND proofread, the little buggers still show up. As to ghoti, it is frequently attributed to George Bernard Shaw, but Shavian authorities assure us that there is no evidence he ever used the word, even as an example of the sometimes exasperation the English language can elicit. In fact, the word seems to have existed as far back as the mid 19th century, before Shaw was even born. I've run across Scandiwegian, but offhand I don't remember where. And for all my vaunted expertise in English, I, too, missed "principal"/"principle". Great story, so far, Robert. Regale us with Chapter 4 soon, please.

I've never been to Mesa Verde. However, my brother-in-law was a park ranger there some 52-1/2 years ago. In fact, my little sister and he celebrated their honeymoon there during that time with the forest service. They returned for their 50th anniversary a couple of years ago, and enjoyed the place just as they enjoyed it when they were a LOT younger. About 30–35 years ago (when I was a lot younger!) one afternoon a friend and I were horseback riding from Penrose, CO, beside the Phantom Canyon Road leading to Victor and Cripple Creek. There in an embankment in the forest was a partially demolished kiva. (The photo below shows the stretch of road we were beside. The kiva would have been back in the trees to the left in the picture.) I've not been back that way, and I wonder whether the kiva is still recognizable. I was excited to see it, but then our part of Colorado has Native American artifacts just about anywhere you are. There was a spot on a hillside on our old ranch about 3 miles south of Wetmore that was simply littered with arrowheads. Supposedly that was the site of some battle. Or it could simply have been the local midden, which would probably be of more archaeological value, but not as exciting as a battle site. As an aside, my baby sister, who is a historian, feels that Native Americans should be called instead "First Immigrants" as a more accurate and descriptive nomenclature. I doubt whether she has consulted any of them, however, on their own preferences. Not her style; she's more than a bit opinionated 😄.

I can identify with David's enthusiasm for mechanical drawing. I was introduced to the subject when I was required to take woodshop in 7th grade (back in 1955). We began with mechanical drawing. I fell in love with it. My dad had been studying architecture in New York City before World War II but had to give it up when he went into the army. He had an exquisite set of drafting tools, however, which he gave to me when I became excited about mechanical drawing. I still have them. And I still use them. Computer Aided Drafting never has had quite the romance for me as drafting with these tools.

Thanks, Bill, the paragraph reads much more smoothly for those of us familiar with this part of the world. I never visited the Sand Dunes, however. My sister and her husband (an Eagle Scout) used to take their Boy Scout troupe every year for a campout there. One of their excursions was photographed for Boys' Life magazine. Long time ago now, 30 years or so. Their son, who was a member of that troupe, just celebrated his 46th birthday a couple of weeks ago. But they all still speak fondly of those trips to the Dunes. (And yes, my nephew also did earn his Eagle Scout award along with one of his buddies in the troupe.)

“In the distance,” Tom stated at one stop, “you can see the Santo de Cristo Mountains, which means ‘the blood of Christ’ in Spanish. The mountains were given that name by the early Spanish explorers, because during sunset and sunrise they claimed the mountains sometimes seemed to be bathed in a reddish hue.” Good morning, all, and a very happy Christmas and holiday season. I think, Bill, this may be a typo. The mountains are called "Sangre de Cristo", which does mean 'blood of Christ'. "Santo de Cristo" wouldn't work, as it would mean something like 'Saint of Christ', neither grammatically nor theologically correct. And they ARE truly spectacular whatever their name, especially from Westcliffe and Silver Cliff (see the photo below of Main Street, Westcliffe, looking west). Been there many times in Westcliffe. My mother attended high school in this little town. One further point, they seem red at sunrise from the east side of the range (from Westcliffe and Silver Cliff), and at sunset one would have to be MANY miles to the west on the western slope of those same mountains to get the red effect. The drive from my town just 30 miles east of the front range is pretty amazing, too, as the front range towers over one. Then up through the canyon beyond the tiny hamlet of Wetmore until one is at the top of the world. The road now continues westerly across fairly desolate high prairie and finally circles a rather high mound of a hill, and suddenly -- no warning at all -- there they are: Reaching from the south to the north and to the skies themselves, the breathtaking Sangre de Cristos. You weren't at the top of the world after all. For there, the Sangre de Cristos reach twice as high as the mountains you just ascended.

“OK. Try not to run over too many reporters.” What a delicious line! Thank you, Robert; the line had me giggling all through the rest of the chapter. A satisfying and happy holiday season to all.

A wonderful start to another wonderful Charlie Boone story. Thank you, Geron. We, your many fans, have no way to accurately express our appreciation.

My pleasure. I take it as a sacred duty. 😄 😄

As usual, you shine a spot on the problem to be illuminated! Now this simply will NOT do! This is a serious literary website as you well know. You have been warned before that punning is not allowed here! 😄 😄

Carl, too. And all the rest of the family and friends.

Quite a few years ago (I was still working, long before retirement, and I've been retired for 20 years) an old college buddy and his wife visited me here in my town about 30–45 minutes east of Canon City. They wanted to visit the Royal Gorge, so I hosted them. This was long before there was any amusement park stuff. It was just the visitors' center and the suspension bridge. There was a train ride available via an elevator down to the canyon floor. My friend was so acrophobic that he wouldn't even leave the visitors' center to cross the broad plaza to get to the edge of the canyon and the bridge. So his wife and I walked the bridge and enjoyed looking between the slats. It made me a little dizzy to do so, but it was also fun. We strolled across and back. There was nothing on the other side back then. But there is usually a rather stiff breeze causing the bridge to sway noticeably. My buddy was so frightened for us that he actually was sweating. He couldn't wait to get back into the car and leave the mountains. His wife and I thoroughly enjoyed teasing him, which he took well. And the scenery is fantastic. These days I'm a tad more cautious about heights. I live on the fourth floor of my building, not very high up at all, but I find I really do not like standing on my balcony. I have no problems with bridges or looking out windows -- even those on our twelfth floor -- but even changing the cover on my AC unit on the balcony is not on my list of comfortable things to do. And at my age I have no desire to visit the Royal Gorge again. This remains an entertaining story. Good work, Bill. The town of Jamesville where our protagonist Mac lives is fictitious, of course. In Chapter 46 Mac mentions that he didn't want to go to either University of Colorado Pueblo or Colorado Springs, even though they were close. So what town is Jamesville in actuality? To the west are both Florence and Penrose, but those won't work because Canon City's eastern city limit is literally Florence's western city limit. And Penrose is just slightly northeast of Florence on Highway 115 to Colorado Springs. Just north of Pueblo is Pinon, but it's a tiny collection of houses and not a town. Fountain is a southern suburb of Colorado Springs. So that leaves the towns east of Pueblo on both Highways 50 and 96. So, Bill, where is Jamesville? 😄 😄 😄

A fun chapter to be sure. I'm familiar with the word "chary". It can be found in 19th century American literature, but I don't recall seeing it before in British writing. And "tret" is completely new to me. Your dialogues, Robert, sound so natural as does your narrative. Such talent is wonderful. Now as to the Eartha Kitt song, one word: Fabulous. Actually, any song by the amazing and beautiful Miss Kitt would not be amiss. I love this song and listen to it every Christmas season and have for many years. Kudos to Summerabbacat for including it in the comments. You might also like to check out Pearl Bailey's Christmas offering from the same era, "Five Pound Box of Money". Not as slinky as Eartha's piece but a LOT of fun.

When I was still pre-school back in the mid-to-late 1940s, I had several of the Bobbsey Twins books. They were a lot of fun for a small child. The older twins, Nan and Bert, were 9 years old while the younger twins, Flossie and Freddie, were about 6 I believe. The stories are still fun but terribly dated; they take place in the early 1920s or thereabouts. Some of them are available as omnibus volumes and can be found at Amazon. The author was Laura Lee Hope, a pseudonym for several authors from the same publishing syndicate that produced the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Uncle Wiggly, and many other boys and girls books of the early-to-mid 1900s. I started in Shakespeare in high school drama class. He can be rather intimidating reading, but he can also be thrilling. His "band of brothers" speech in Henry V which Henry gives to his troops on October 25, 1415, just before they defeated the French at the Battle of Agincourt, always brings tears to my eyes and a large lump in my throat. I was never of fan of Romeo and Juliet, although there are some gorgeous speeches there, too. But I have read the entire Dickens canon. Numerous times. 😁 And, finally, another great chapter in the current Hugill opus.

Too late to throw Mom from the train. Perhaps Dad can throw her from the car. Or maybe the doctor, who seemingly hasn't missed her, can slip her a lethal hypo?