“…the music is from a piano piece written by French composer Maurice Ravel called “Gaspard de la Nuit.” The section depicted on the building comes from the third movement, called ‘Scarbo.’”
https://minnesota.cbslocal.com/2014/03/30/finding-minnesota-the-mystery-musical-mural/
Link from Rick Gordon
It’s called journalism and I’ve been heartened the last few days by the media refusing to be cowered by this lying bully. There was a scathing, hard-hitting editorial in the NYTimes yesterday titled “The Missing Pieces in the Flynn Story.” Right on! Then last night I watched Judy Woodruff on PBS go after the smarmy former Trump campaign manager Carter Page and his actions in Russia. He wouldn’t answer her when she asked “Were you in any kind of contact with Russian officials?” but just kept using the phrase “fake news.”
In my high school journalism class, Mr. Patterson taught us about “the five Ws and one H:” the Who, What, Why, When, Where and How questions that must be answered before any story is complete. AND about journalistic objectivity in reporting the news and saving your opinions for the editorial page. That was the ideal, anyway. The art of journalism.
I’m glad the journalists are not backing down, and the way Trump went after the NYTimes today means they’re getting to him. Viva the power of the pen! (Drawing from an old Punch magazine)
I had the thought last night that it would be good to forget about labels like conservative or liberal and have the focus be on the truth (insofar as it can be determined). What really happened?
And what is honest, what is fair, what is compassionate?
Sorry, every once in a while, the political situation breaks through here. I know people don’t read this blog for my political views, but the hideousness of what is happening right now causes me to erupt on occasion. To my amazement, there are Trump supporters that read this blog, and I just don’t get it. Everything that I write about or photograph comes from a mind and soul that is deeply opposed to this mean-spirited prick.
San Jose Mercury News, Feb 9, 2017, article by Paul Rodgers:
“For the first time in four years, more than half of California is no longer classified as being in drought conditions by the federal government — the latest milestone signaling the end of the state’s historic drought.
Altogether, 53 percent of California has seen enough precipitation, and its reservoirs and groundwater levels have filled so much that it is not in drought, according to the U.S. Drought Monitor, a weekly report issued by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the U.S. Department of Agriculture and the University of Nebraska. A year ago, just 5 percent of the state was out of drought.…”
As of last Thursday, Lake Shasta was at 87% of capacity.
From Lew Lewandowski
This climber—what a guy!
From Jon Kalish
Mark Hansen, master builder from Grand Marais, Minnesota, trying out a fat tire snow bike. Amazing how these things can ride through #powdersnow.
From Godfrey Stephens
“…Wanna see our pictures on the cover
Wanna buy five copies for our mothers
Wanna see my smilin face
On the cover of the Rollin Stone”
People of a certain, um, age will remember the song from the early ’70s by Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show.
Well, I finally made it on a cover, 61 (ulp!) years later in the just-out copy of The Surfer’s Journal. I was wearing a shorty wetsuit from the Dive ‘N Surf shop in La Jolla (pre-O’Neill). You sent them your measurements and they sent you the cut-out pieces and a bottle of Black Magic glue and some tape. You’d glue together pieces, glue tape over seams. Early wetsuits didn’t have nylon lining so you’d rub cornstarch on your body so as to be able to slip the suit on. Underneath it I was wearing on old-fashioned wool bathing suit. A 9′ Velzy balsa wood board (this was just before foam.)
This was about a 6-8′ drop to the water (at Steamer Lane), there was a ledge, and we did this when the tide was right in order to stay dry. We’d wait for a wave to hit the cliff, then jump as the backwash flowed outward.
Before wetsuits there wasn’t much of a crowd problem. I remember a foggy morning, 6-8’ at the Lane, 4 of us out. Ah, me.