Thursday, February 15, 2007
Than we ever dared to tell
They were calm, they were blunt
We knew them all too well
We loved each other more
Than we ever dared to tell.
Bob Dylan -- Cross the Green Mountain
Soundtrack to Gods and Generals
(Some say this is a war protest song about Sept 11.)
Post Valentine's Day
I received an email from my friend Toby Reed recently, full of family news and travel plans. She got me thinking when she said her son Barry was trying to kill her with his news of taking up a new USAID job in Pakistan while his wife stays working with the Chechens.
I went on-line to query USAID and the Pakistan mission to try to decipher what work Barry could be getting involved in. If I remember correctly, he is an expert on local (municipal or county) administration and budgeting. A sort of City Manager type thing. I found that there was a recent grant of US funds to Pakistan for education, health care and governance. I guess that governance is where Barry would fit in.
Google results
http://pdf.usaid.gov/pdf_docs/Pdabs607.pdf
Urban Institute -International Activities Center description(2005):
http://www.urban.org/about/report/upload/2005_UI_Annual_Report_Final.pdf
http://pdf.usaid.gov/pdf_docs/PDACI265.pdf
and finally, the USAID Pakistan Mission page
http://www.usaid.gov/pk/
I agree with Toby, Pakistan sounds like a worrisome hot spot for a white-bread type like Barry Reed. But his credentials seem to assure that he has the skill sets necessary to deliver the goods.
Down Memory Lane
On Oxbow Lane in Dublin, CA in the late-60s, I remember Barry as a small child, bent over the dirt by his front porch steps, placing his plastic army men in attack positions in the humps and valleys he made in the dirt pile. His toy movements were often accompanied by explosive sound effects and flying plastic. His 50+ little army men and jeeps lived in that area of the front garden for about three years until he moved on to Little League baseball.
One summer Sunday afternoon, when our kids were small, my husband Bill was sitting on our couch in our living room with our small daughter Diana. I was sitting across the room trying to ignore the two of them while I took a parenting break to read a chapter or two of my newest library book.
Three-year old Diana had just woken up from her afternoon nap and she was snuggling a bit on her father's lap. He was talking to her about taking her nose off her face and showing it to her with his fisted hand. She was giggling saying "no way, Dad, no way". He said, "I have magic powers, I do!!" Diana shook her head in denial. Bill looked out the living room window and saw Barry Reed across the street hunched over his usual spot of dirt with his army men. He pointed to Barry and told Diana, "I can turn Barry into a frog."
"I don't believe you, Dad," Diana said.
Feinting magical incantations, Bill moved his hands around and then pointed determinedly at Barry. Diana's eyes followed his hand movements. To distract her, Bill started a tickling episode, keeping his eye on Barry's movements across the street. Soon, Barry went into the house and Bill stopped the tickling. He said, "Look, I told you. I turned Barry into a frog, see??"
Diana climbed up on the back of the couch, looked across the street and saw that Barry was gone. "Where is he, Dad?" she asked.
"I turned him into a frog, I swear! Can't you see him little and jumping over there?" he said.
Diana started to cry and slid down the couch with her hands covering her face. The full impact of her father's magical abilities struck her profoundly. She feared for herself. If her father could do that to Barry, what could he do to her if he should get mad at her?
Bill was thunderstruck at the impact of his joke on Diana. He scooped her up and hugged her saying, "It was only a joke, honey!" Just at that moment, Barry walked out his front door with a plastic glass of red juice totally oblivious to the stir he had caused. When Diana saw Barry out the window, she turned to her father and said, "Thank you Daddy, I am glad Barry is not a frog any more."
Thus it was that our family started its long association with stories of magical frogs and Prince transformations. The theme of undiscovered lovable potential in the oddest corners of life lent hope and high fantasy to the aura of many young men who entered our door. No one ever had to be what they initially seemed, they had the potential for being even better!!
So, coming around to Valentine's Day, it seems to me that Cupid is sort of Puck like, froggish and probably green like Kermit ("it is not easy being green").
The Princes so far have been Larry Ascher and Christopher Vaughn. All of them were more than then they first appeared. However, the sweetest Prince has been my son.
Finally, the sadest family frog story is this one -- Michael, at the delicate age of 17 years old received Frisky Frog
http://www.thisoldtoy.com/L_FP_set/toy-pages/100-199/154-friskyfrog.html
as a sort of Santa's Christmas joke 'kiss off' gift (supposing to be the last toy you receive from Santa). Since he received no other toy-type gifts that year, despite his age, he was hurt and very disappointed.
I realized then and there that my children would never give up looking for games and toys for Christmas gifts until the day they die. I have tried to keep up the tradition in one way or another ever since.
Up the Creek and Still Paddling
I now want to trace an odd internet odyessy I just took that led to the song lyrics quoted above.
I was thinking of Barry's cheap plastic army men and other cheap toys we were able to buy at the local Sprouse Reitz store. We could get large clear cellophane bags of plastic molded army men, little army transport vehicles (jeeps, trucks and tanks) and bags full of various small navy ships. I think we paid about 49 cents for these bags of 100+ items.
I was listening to our local NPR radio station and they were playing some typical low, slow classical piece. Thinking about the little navy ships, I thought about the musical theme for the TV show "Victory at Sea".
I was trying to remember if it was an album of clay 78 rpm records in a large set of bound folders, or a single large long playing (LP) 33 rpm plasic record with all the various episode themes.
I went on-line and queried "Victory at Sea" and followed the leads to
http://victoryatseaonline.com/victory_music.html
(note the teal cover, first on the line up to the right, the one with the black & white picture -- THAT was the album we had)
which lead to
http://victoryatseaonline.com/war/index.html
which lead to my favorite song, the waltz (and this is my own personal theme whenever I think of Australia)
http://home.comcast.net/~pflyersboy/victory/beneath_the_southern_cross.mp3
Now it is funny, I looked and saw the other web page about theme music from war movies.
Clicking that lead to
http://victoryatseaonline.com/war/gods-music.html
randomly I clicked on
http://home.comcast.net/~phillymela/gods-generals/cross-green-mountain.mp3
The last stansa was so haunting, so typically Dylan, I had forgotten how much I love his music.
Turn, turn, turn, the mind and memory is a mighty thing, eh?
We knew them all too well
We loved each other more
Than we ever dared to tell.
Bob Dylan -- Cross the Green Mountain
Soundtrack to Gods and Generals
(Some say this is a war protest song about Sept 11.)
Post Valentine's Day
I received an email from my friend Toby Reed recently, full of family news and travel plans. She got me thinking when she said her son Barry was trying to kill her with his news of taking up a new USAID job in Pakistan while his wife stays working with the Chechens.
I went on-line to query USAID and the Pakistan mission to try to decipher what work Barry could be getting involved in. If I remember correctly, he is an expert on local (municipal or county) administration and budgeting. A sort of City Manager type thing. I found that there was a recent grant of US funds to Pakistan for education, health care and governance. I guess that governance is where Barry would fit in.
Google results
http://pdf.usaid.gov/pdf_docs/Pdabs607.pdf
Urban Institute -International Activities Center description(2005):
http://www.urban.org/about/report/upload/2005_UI_Annual_Report_Final.pdf
http://pdf.usaid.gov/pdf_docs/PDACI265.pdf
and finally, the USAID Pakistan Mission page
http://www.usaid.gov/pk/
I agree with Toby, Pakistan sounds like a worrisome hot spot for a white-bread type like Barry Reed. But his credentials seem to assure that he has the skill sets necessary to deliver the goods.
Down Memory Lane
On Oxbow Lane in Dublin, CA in the late-60s, I remember Barry as a small child, bent over the dirt by his front porch steps, placing his plastic army men in attack positions in the humps and valleys he made in the dirt pile. His toy movements were often accompanied by explosive sound effects and flying plastic. His 50+ little army men and jeeps lived in that area of the front garden for about three years until he moved on to Little League baseball.
One summer Sunday afternoon, when our kids were small, my husband Bill was sitting on our couch in our living room with our small daughter Diana. I was sitting across the room trying to ignore the two of them while I took a parenting break to read a chapter or two of my newest library book.
Three-year old Diana had just woken up from her afternoon nap and she was snuggling a bit on her father's lap. He was talking to her about taking her nose off her face and showing it to her with his fisted hand. She was giggling saying "no way, Dad, no way". He said, "I have magic powers, I do!!" Diana shook her head in denial. Bill looked out the living room window and saw Barry Reed across the street hunched over his usual spot of dirt with his army men. He pointed to Barry and told Diana, "I can turn Barry into a frog."
"I don't believe you, Dad," Diana said.
Feinting magical incantations, Bill moved his hands around and then pointed determinedly at Barry. Diana's eyes followed his hand movements. To distract her, Bill started a tickling episode, keeping his eye on Barry's movements across the street. Soon, Barry went into the house and Bill stopped the tickling. He said, "Look, I told you. I turned Barry into a frog, see??"
Diana climbed up on the back of the couch, looked across the street and saw that Barry was gone. "Where is he, Dad?" she asked.
"I turned him into a frog, I swear! Can't you see him little and jumping over there?" he said.
Diana started to cry and slid down the couch with her hands covering her face. The full impact of her father's magical abilities struck her profoundly. She feared for herself. If her father could do that to Barry, what could he do to her if he should get mad at her?
Bill was thunderstruck at the impact of his joke on Diana. He scooped her up and hugged her saying, "It was only a joke, honey!" Just at that moment, Barry walked out his front door with a plastic glass of red juice totally oblivious to the stir he had caused. When Diana saw Barry out the window, she turned to her father and said, "Thank you Daddy, I am glad Barry is not a frog any more."
Thus it was that our family started its long association with stories of magical frogs and Prince transformations. The theme of undiscovered lovable potential in the oddest corners of life lent hope and high fantasy to the aura of many young men who entered our door. No one ever had to be what they initially seemed, they had the potential for being even better!!
So, coming around to Valentine's Day, it seems to me that Cupid is sort of Puck like, froggish and probably green like Kermit ("it is not easy being green").
The Princes so far have been Larry Ascher and Christopher Vaughn. All of them were more than then they first appeared. However, the sweetest Prince has been my son.
Finally, the sadest family frog story is this one -- Michael, at the delicate age of 17 years old received Frisky Frog
http://www.thisoldtoy.com/L_FP_set/toy-pages/100-199/154-friskyfrog.html
as a sort of Santa's Christmas joke 'kiss off' gift (supposing to be the last toy you receive from Santa). Since he received no other toy-type gifts that year, despite his age, he was hurt and very disappointed.
I realized then and there that my children would never give up looking for games and toys for Christmas gifts until the day they die. I have tried to keep up the tradition in one way or another ever since.
Up the Creek and Still Paddling
I now want to trace an odd internet odyessy I just took that led to the song lyrics quoted above.
I was thinking of Barry's cheap plastic army men and other cheap toys we were able to buy at the local Sprouse Reitz store. We could get large clear cellophane bags of plastic molded army men, little army transport vehicles (jeeps, trucks and tanks) and bags full of various small navy ships. I think we paid about 49 cents for these bags of 100+ items.
I was listening to our local NPR radio station and they were playing some typical low, slow classical piece. Thinking about the little navy ships, I thought about the musical theme for the TV show "Victory at Sea".
I was trying to remember if it was an album of clay 78 rpm records in a large set of bound folders, or a single large long playing (LP) 33 rpm plasic record with all the various episode themes.
I went on-line and queried "Victory at Sea" and followed the leads to
http://victoryatseaonline.com/victory_music.html
(note the teal cover, first on the line up to the right, the one with the black & white picture -- THAT was the album we had)
which lead to
http://victoryatseaonline.com/war/index.html
which lead to my favorite song, the waltz (and this is my own personal theme whenever I think of Australia)
http://home.comcast.net/~pflyersboy/victory/beneath_the_southern_cross.mp3
Now it is funny, I looked and saw the other web page about theme music from war movies.
Clicking that lead to
http://victoryatseaonline.com/war/gods-music.html
randomly I clicked on
http://home.comcast.net/~phillymela/gods-generals/cross-green-mountain.mp3
The last stansa was so haunting, so typically Dylan, I had forgotten how much I love his music.
Turn, turn, turn, the mind and memory is a mighty thing, eh?
# posted by Dornar @ 6:07 PM 
