Anne and I have been watching the PBS documentary series, Country Music, which is produced by Ken Burns, the most distinguished of our high school alumnus. He graduated the year before us. We’ve watched the first four episodes and plan on tuning in again, when the series starts back up tomorrow. I’ve never been as big a fan of country music as with other musical genres. I guess that I’m just too much the city boy, but I do like the stories that they tell. From the country classics to the silly one off songs, there is something quintessentially American about their stories. In typical Burns fashion, he has segmented the bigger story into episodes that encapsulate the musical genre’s successive periods. Beginning with old sepia tone photos that are brought to life again with a panning camera, and which by episode four film has supplanted. I found the series playlist on Spotify and am listening to it while I write this post, except when Patsy Cline’s Crazy comes on and Anne demands a dance. One criticism of the series is that it is too personality driven, especially in the later yet unseen episodes. Even with sixteen hours of storytelling, not everyone’s favorite singer will get their due. Next time that we’re in Nashville, it would be nice to visit one of Broadway’s honkytonks again.
Mysteries, secrets and clues were part and parcel of the young adult book series, Nancy Drew. First published in 1930, it was produced as the female counterpart to the already established Hardy Boys. The pictured first ~thirty volumes of this series are most likely reprints that were produced in the sixties. A total of 175 Nancy Drew books were written. Later volumes, printed in the eighties featured pairings of Nancy Drew with the Hardy Boys. I’m surprised that it took them so long to find the opposite sex, as great as detectives that they all were. We found this particular collection gracing the shelves of the eclectic Stewarts Point store.
I’ve never read any Nancy Drew, but I did read a few of the Hardy Boys books. Anne read Nancy Drew. Speaking from ignorance then, I imagine that the two mystery series were similar in many ways. They shared the same publisher, were produced by a series of authors (Carolyn Keene is a pseudonym) and were created contemporaneously, with the Hardy Boys beginning only three years before Nancy Drew started. Both series have evolved over time, with earlier volumes being rewritten and new books continually added. The books have also branched out into movies and TV. The latest incarnation of the Nancy Drew franchise is scheduled to stream next month on the CW. Here is a link to its trailer. The girl has come a long way since 1930.
Anne had her first day off since we got back. She wasn’t scheduled to work and there were no last minute pleas for help. So, she got a day off. We both slept in and then leisurely sat around all morning, drinking two cups of coffee each. We finally got off the dime and drove to the Slammer, to see the Gauguin exhibit that leaves next week. We got caught up in the procrastinator’s end of show rush and had a hard time finding a parking spot. We also couldn’t get an immediate entry into the exhibit, but we did score immediate seating in the café and had lunch first. This Gauguin show emphasizes the breath of the different media that he worked in, but save for one painting that I used after I had first seen the show, none of his famous work is represented. He was also quite the pedophile.
The metal print that I ordered, arrived today. It looks pretty good, although there are subtle difference in it from the original, which I’ll link to here. It is slightly darker than the original, but the colors are also much richer. I had to crop it to fit the printer’s available formats. Unfortunately, I inadvertently cropped off my signature. Oh well, it still came out quite well considering that this was a first attempt. I’m sure that I’ll do better next time.
The water company came by this morning. I drove Anne to school a little earlier than necessary, in order to be available during their service window. Fortunately, they didn’t arrive too early or too late. I only had to wait around for half-an-hour for the service tech to show and the job only lasted fifteen minutes. Installed was a satellite uplink, so that the water company doesn’t have to send out any more meter readers. This concludes an exercise that they initiated last May. When they sent out their first notice, I responded to let them know that we would be out of town all summer. Then they said that’s fine, we’ll schedule something when I returned. Anyway that’s what they said then. When we finally returned a letter had arrived that threatened an imminent water shutoff. Several frantic phone calls, eventually resolved everything, but not before their incompetence was exposed. In this age of big brother and big data, I suspect that they will be able to monitor the length of my showers from now on.
I bicycled in the park this morning. I got out as soon as the meter maid had finished her job. I wanted to beat the heat. I almost wrecked again, when for the second time in as many weeks, another cyclist cut me off, by turning in front of me at the last moment. Fortunately, I was able to avoid a crash. At least this cyclist was more apologetic than the last one. That one was almost a hit and run.
It feels more like July than September this week, with highs in the nineties and heat indices approaching a hundred all week. I’ll be biking as early as I can. The weekend looks cooler.