Saturday, July 29, 2017

Rumba S,C,D; John Tyson; Three Brothers cont'd; Cinnamon and apple sauce

Girl from Guantanamo



Dance through life



John Tyson Vignettes

Carroll College art professor

b. 1930 - d. 1982

(a brief review on a dear friend:)

John Tyson and Wis Guthrie at Carroll College
Many years - we say again - before Dee came to Wisconsin
from Maryland I had a friend, now deceased,
named John Tyson, who was an art professor
at Carroll College. It was not university then.

John and I were fans of Jose Feliciano.
We liked, really grooved on his singing of Little Red Rooster.
I bought that now ecclesiastic rooster bird featured below
in memory of John and that song.
John has been written up in the raccoon previously.

This article appeared in a forerunner of The Sewer Raccoon News, a pioneering effort of this editor using a mimeo machine - remember them? - a periodical called Vulcan Weathervanes. It was called that because in 1981 when this article ran, yours truly was playing with F-I-R-E.

Playing with oxyacetelene fire, making and selling weathervanes. (And other firey engagements.)

A long-term friend, now deceased, was John Tyson. We should make that 
J-O-H-N   T-Y-S-O-N
one of the best friends this fire-player ever had.
Until shortly before his untimely death at age 52- of a heart attack - John was an art professor at Carroll College. He inspired me. I learned to weld because of him, and I learned to let my sculptures and other metal products rust because of his own rusty work. One day we took one of his large rusting steel mobiles and hung it in a tree at his farm and punctured multiple holes in it with a .22 caliber rifle.
At the Milwaukee Lake Front annual art festival he was juried permission to show, and he took ONE (1) pot, what he considered his best. He set it on the hood of his rusty pick-up. All the other artists had their customary partitions and tables loaded with saleable merchandise, but John Tyson took only his best effort, and sat in his folding chair next to the truck.

When drinking Harvey's Bristol Cream once in my living room, he accidentally spilled a little. A smigeon. Calling him on it scoldingly, he looked at me and took his glass and emptied it on the carpet, totally. We exchanged a long direct gaze, and then nearly ruptured our spleens with laugher. Over time, but too little, John Tyson taught me a lot.
The day he died he saw me passing on the road and waved.

The above ceramic dish molded in John's hands
holds the water of a just-watered houseplant.  Here his 
hastily Sharpie-scribbled black signature
is bone dry in the NW light of our bank of Odd Fellows windows.

Tyson pot 1968; KD cat 2016



Three Brothers, Bayview WI
2414 S. St Clair St


Milun Radicevic,  3 Bros. founder

Photo by Zoe Middleton

Our son Leland Dix at the Three Brothers with Zoe 

photo by Zoe Middleton


A favorite midnight snack

very simple fare
but cinnamon is contained
in our late mother Ruth's
Japanese bee hive keeper

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Stars fell on (Alabama) Bayview WI; Three Bros beef burek from Lee and Zoe; Caring electric scooter rider; Lead therapist; Malaguena

A starry night...

"She never planned in her imagination
a situation so heavenly..."

(Family gathering, 2013)

...what an experience 
a trip to The Three Brothers
Serbian Restaurant in Bayview WI
would be like...

...until Leland took  her
(Zoe Middleton) 
- a world traveler -
to our favorite ethnic eatery
 last week while she was here from the home she shares with Lee in Houston TX.

Leland. steeped in appreciation for the Starry-Nighted restaurant
now in his own right, wanted to show his girlfriend a special time
in Milwaukee.

They brought us back a beef burek which we (Dee) correctly
reheated and served for dinner last evening.

My memories of the establishment and its fare came flooding back
as the crispy philo-doughed offering met my palette.


This was the philo beef burek from The Three Brothers
that Dee set before me last evening.

My friend the late Branko Radicevic, impresario of  the 3 Bros
smiled upon me once more...

  Unsung hero works the music venue
at Friday Night Live
recently zeroing in on a piece of trash paper with her grabber tool
and deposits it in her bucket.

Seen from our Odd Fellows window.


Our lead therapist at Linden Grove rehab, 
who with her therapy cohorts there took us from simplicities like using a grabber in our wheel chair to, in the end, walking out of the place. Temporarily on a walker. Broken hip is mended.

Tammy (lnu), Occ. Therapist, Linden Grove Communities, Mukwonago WI
Kindness radiates.  Photo from  a found public Linden Grove brochure.


Never blind to his music

Jose Feliciano


More Jose

and to finish this post ~
catching the flavor of the regional origins of the Serbian 3 Bros
who had this number on their juke box
years ago, ZORBA THE GREEK

~ or ~
notice Jose's faithful seeing eye dog at his side

~ or, and this really IT now ~


Lights off, writing over

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Hello Wisconsin my name is Yon Yonson; Be merciful; Carrying water to the field; Fake News? - a history; A song and dance

My name is Yon Yonson,
I live in Wisconsin.
I work in a lumber yard there.
The people I meet as
I walk down the street,
They say "Hello!"
I say "Hello!"
They say "What's your name."
I say: My name is Yon Yonson... (repeated again and again).

Want to hear Carl Sandburg sing this in 1958, when he was 80?



                          by: Edward Rowland Sill (1841-1887)

The royal feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: "Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!"
The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.
He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the Monarch's silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: "O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
"No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
"'T is not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
'T is by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away.
"These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.
"The ill-timed truth we might have kept--
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say--
Who knows how grandly it had rung!
"Our faults no tenderness should ask.
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders -- oh, in shame
Before the eyes of heaven we fall.
"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!"
The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
"Be merciful to me, a fool!"


Carrying Water to the Field
by Joyce Sutphen

Listen Online

And on those hot afternoons in July,
when my father was out on the tractor
cultivating rows of corn, my mother
would send us out with a Mason jar
filled with ice and water, a dish towel
wrapped around it for insulation.
Like a rocket launched to an orbiting
planet, we would cut across the fields
in a trajectory calculated to intercept—
or, perhaps, even—surprise him
in his absorption with the row and the
turning always over earth beneath the blade.
He would look up and see us, throttle
down, stop, and step from the tractor
with the grace of a cowboy dismounting
his horse, and receive gratefully the jar
of water, ice cubes now melted into tiny
shards, drinking it down in a single gulp,
while we watched, mission accomplished.


Fake news  ?

Milwaukee Journal article  1989

Son Leland becomes Yibawean 7-3-16
Mother Denise and Zoe do the honors

Finished Dixman result 7-3-16

Lee, visiting here 7-17
with his old furry Froggy doll;
he is still Yibawean

Leland's grandfather Leslie Dix circa 2000
sets family pace

Lee's Grandfather in Oval Office as Consumer Affairs aide to LBJ


  Ivete Sangalo
Alejandro Sanz

Lee, when a college Portuguese student, put us onto this exciting music of Ivete

Sangalo. Sanz  in a duo is  great too.
(Sahn-gah'-low; Sahnz)

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Diagnosis; Charioteer; 'The Appian Way' by Respighi; Appian history

by Sharon Olds

Listen Online

By the time I was six months old, she knew something
was wrong with me. I got looks on my face
she had not seen on any child
in the family, or the extended family,
or the neighborhood. My mother took me in
to the pediatrician with the kind hands,
a doctor with a name like a suit size for a wheel:
Hub Long. My mom did not tell him
what she thought in truth, that I was Possessed.
It was just these strange looks on my face—
he held me, and conversed with me
chatting as one does with a baby, and my mother
said, She’s doing it now! Look!
She’s doing it now! and the doctor said,
What your daughter has
is called a sense
of humor. Ohhh, she said, and took me
back to the house where that sense would be tested
and found to be incurable.

"Diagnosis" by Sharon Olds from One Secret Thing. © Knop 2009


We recently celebrated
the fourth of July here in Waukesha.

We have a mayor named Shawn Reilly who is coming up on the end
of his four year term, his first.  I find him self-effacing and modest,
a good young man with years of lawyer experience including his long stint
with the downtown Business Improvement District, a post that had Reilly
battling encrusted forces, he in the interests of bettering downtown conditions
for commerce and residential.

Reilly has proven himself on the fields of city battle.

That's why is was so singular that His Honor chose to his parade ride
in a black chariot convertible at the lead of the community co-mingled legions,
looking for all the world to us like a Caesar coming home from victory
on Rome's Appian Way.

Our vantage for Waukesha's parades has been for the last seven years
our residence on the top floor of the Putney Odd Fellows hall, giving us
a coveted angle from which to take our photos.


Here comes Mayor Reilly now:

It was not hard to put this construction on his grand entrance:

THE PINES OF ROME came to mind, Respighi's masterpiece including
the throbbing beats of the symphony in movement No. IV, The Appian Way.

Parades of victory - and once in a while defeat - saw the bruised Roman soldiers
traveling  proudly home via the ancient stone roadway.
Fighters all - for what they saw by their lights was right.

Listen to the music:

Another Reillian effect in his work as leader of the Waukesha various armies
has been the humbler performance of foot soldier duties as a volunteer:

Downtown clean-up day
new broom sweeps clean


For the complete Respighi version which includes a standing ovation play this:
Move the time bar to 14 minutes to get the full Appian Way effect of this complete version.


History of the Appian Way

Saturday, July 1, 2017

Plentitude; Raccoons; Ray Bethell kite flying; Want fries with that?; New eclipse postage


Even near the very end
the frail cat of many years
came to sit with me
among the glitter of bulb and glow
tried to the very last to drink water
and love her small world
would not give up on her curious self.
And though she staggered — shriveled and weak
still she poked her nose through ribbon and wrap
and her peace and her sweetness were of such
that when I held my ear to her heart
I could hear the sea.

"Plentitude" by Ann Iverson from Mouth of Summer. © Kelsay Books, 2017


Sewer Raccoons

A rash, an "outbreak" of Sewer Raccoons
continues in Waukesha;
three coon servants of the blind King Coon
living beneath the city  in his improvised
throne room 
were seen simultaneously emerging
from  a storm grate

These audacious coons
are gentle burglars
serving their liege
by gathering items
from his regal shopping lists
usually under cover of darkness

They rove about furtively
which gives strength to
the belief that they
are possibly harmful

Good heavens
what's so bad about their
meager wants
 - bits of broken glass
and bottle caps?

The king needs a royal cape
and what better way to adorn him
than with a discarded purple velvet
drapery sample and the colorful trash
found in our street gutters?

I say live in harmony with
our subterranean friends
and be amused, not scared,
when they tip-toe about
touching us

Sometimes, yes, they go beyond
their usual shyness
particularly  at Halloween
when they gently reach up pantlegs
and frighten children sufficiently
that they drop their sacks
of candy

Such pickings
should not be denied
the masked faux raiders
who do not poke guns
in anyone's back and say
"Stick-em UP!"
Nor are they child molesters.

They come bearing
explicit shopping lists
from the King:
maybe a piece of metal
bent just so,
or a melon, or a piece
of pizza in the gutter 

Nothing we're ever going to miss
No breaking and entering
no howls or shrieks
these raccoons are more afraid of us
than we are of them
except         at HALLOWEEN

I say we welcome the raccoons
to our neighborhoods
Our streets are much cleaner
for their scavenging
Just imagine their King
and the cape he wears

Money cannot buy such
improvised elegance

The King,
so old he cannot walk
can no longer negotiate
the long sewer distances
from the throne room
cavern far below the
old downown post office
to the far-flung
street-level residential grates

In truth
he is blind
from too many years
of being kept in the dark

His crest may read
"Veritas Est Lux"
'Light, let there be more light'

I know the coons are
looking for a miner's
helmet for him


I know the problem of Halloween
out-and-out theft
would be cured by tying
strings around childrens' pantlegs

I'd even endorse a raccoon statue
along the Fox River
that flows close
to the old post office
our memorial ground

After all, we have riverside cement
and iron animals
- foxes, bears, dragon flies -
on our Riverwalk
let's elevate the lowly
sewer raccoon

Underscoring this scribbling
is the fact, bottom line,
that Waukeshans are

[DD '07]


85 year old man flies kites

You are old, father William,_Father_William


Did you want fries with that?
(A Wis Guthrie creation)


New US postage Dep't

Celebrating the coming total solar eclipse
the postal department has unleashed a new Forever stamp.

When you put warmth against the stamp, such as placing it under your forearm
on your desk or writing table
or pressing it with your thumb, the newly devised thermo-ink will allow 
the stamp to clearly show the face of the moon, back-lit.

In this illustration the red envelope has a stamp attached that is activated.
Beneath is shown the same stamp without applied body warmth.  Pretty bleak.