More attitude

We live close to Lake Washington. On the fourth of July we get to see the entire shore sparkle with private firework shows. Directly across from us, on Mercer island, are the homes of some of the more moneyed classes. The size and loudness of some of these displays indicate that they are "illegal" fireworks bought at the reservation stands.
A couple hundred people injure themselves every year with these things.
Which is not a good enough reason to abstain for the millions and millions of us who want to demonstrate our pride in our country by blowing stuff up.
Considering the trouble we are going to to destabilize the semitic east, It seems a small price to pay.
Besides, it's one time of the year when the pops and bangs are not cops and robbers shooting it out.
We also get to see the top of the Lake Union show and the one near the Boeing Renton plant.
America, **** Yeah!!

So... I'm supposed to be interested in music here.

Just finished reading Norman Lebrecht's "Mahler Remembered".
I thought I had read them all, but it turns out that there's one about Handel, I'll have to find it.
My only opinion abt. Mahler is this; I dont think he wrote nine or ten symphonies, I think he wrote eighteen or twenty symphonies and scrambled then all together.

Just the opinion of a redneck in the cheap seats.

I also just finished "The life and music of George Antheil" .
A man overshadowed by his most memorable work.
I began to worry that I would be remembered only for my "Aspice Quod Felis Attraxit"
(as sung by a choir of cats) until I remembered that most likely I'm not to be remembered at all.

Blessed, blessed Oblivion.

Anyway Mr. Antheil was in the habit of writing "manifestoes" which shared the salient features of the writings of many other great artists, like Joe Chris Wolf Theo Mozart* and James Joyce, in that they are mainly pleas for more money.
So I thought I should have a manifesto, too.

It isn't music until it rattles the eardrums of the audience and causes the secretion of various kinds of endorphins and other self manufactured psychotropic
chemistries.
If the seats aren't wet at the double bar, it don't count.

But, of course you are more interested in the tires. The '67 VW van with the '49 formula one Ferrari painted on the side has it's new tires. I drove it to the tire store Tuesday and left it. I enjoyed a nice little walk home, about five miles. I am always amazed at the number of things you see walking that you miss driving. There is a brass plaque on the first south bridge for instance, that informs us that is was built in 1930 and has an official name...ummm
The Duwamish Waterway Bridge? I don't remember (see "*" below)

And the incredible amount of trash along the side of the road.
Tell me if this has ever happened to you; I saw an odd bit of stuff by the road, I picked it up and found that it was apparently some kind small radio receiver. After examining it and finding it wanting, I was reluctant to toss it back because I don't like to "litter". You never know where the "Pure Earth" Gestapo might be lurking.
This in spite of the fact that the roadside was already covered with beer cans, odd bits of plastic, random body parts**, and shards of our broken constitution.
So, I put it in my pocket and threw it in my trash can at home.

Part of the trip took me by the Boeing Air museum where, although it was not open yet, I still could walk around some of the outdoor exibits, including a B-47, a DC-2,
and a FIAT "Frecce tricolore"

Which brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to "attitude" and environs.
Looking at the jet fighters on display reawoke in the depths of my soul the atavistic desire to jump in one of them*** and jam the pedal to the metal and blast up fourth avenue (south to north,it is a one way street)full throttle with afterburners lit at about fifty feet off the ground and suck out all the windows from Jackson street to Mercer.
Fortunately for all involved, I know nothing about flying one of those things and they don't set there all fueled up and ready to go anyway.

Probably some kind of security setup there too, I imagine.

So...I wended my way homeward, taking advantage of my pedestrian status to walk past some dead end signs and visit some paths that have always intrigued my when driving.

They just lead to other streets, sic semper ambulatoriam mundi mundane.

I did find the lightbulb sculpures I have been wondering the whereabouts of since I read about them in the paper. They are part of the park-like landscaping around a local electrical plant. A close walk from the house and not far from the Kuboda Gardens. Go there some time if your in town.

Anyway, the trombone concerto is a magnificant hoot, hope y'all get to hear it some day, I'm on to the tubacon already.
As a precurser to that piece, I've written a two tuba invention called Tubatuba, which I hope to link for you soon.


*
Something like that, you know how I hate to have to look things up.
**
Mainly auto body.
***
Not the FIAT, I have a FIAT, from which home I can walk when stops working it does.