Mazurland Blog

Uke Topper

Several times over the last few months, some of my Facebook friends have exchanged YouTube links to videos of people playing the ukulele. It's amusing and amazing what some people will transcribe to the uke. I've posted some of these links to Mazurland. The players are usually decent, and their covers of many pop tunes are fun to watch. But, not all uke players are in it for the novelty. I've posted in the past a link to the wonderful natural talent of the late Israel "Iz" Kamakawiwo'ole. Though his strumming was never more than a vehicle for the tune, his soulful high tenor carried it in such a beautiful way.

For technical and interpretive brilliance on the instrument itself, it's hard to beat Jake Shimabukuro. Here he is giving his rendition of While My Guitar Gently Weeps. He's truly a uke virtuoso. And, unlike the many mirthful cover artists, he has reverence for the song he's playing. It shows in his rendition of the National Anthem. (It's a little showy for my taste, but embellishment seems to be what people want these days. Hey. He didn't scratch himself.)

A Couple Of The Nicest Guys In The World

Harry Groves was Penn State's track and cross country coach for over 30 years until he retired in 2006. Harry has coached some of the finest athletes to come out of Penn State over the years. Some have become Olympians. In 2001 he was inducted into the US Track Coaches Association Hall of Fame. He was a founder, in the late 60s, of the Nittany Valley Track Club (since renamed the Nittany Valley Running Club) of which I am a 20-year member and "Propaganda Minister" (I've done the Newsletter, web site, newspaper blog, and other duties suited to a big-mouth).

During the summer, the NVRC sponsors a film series at Appalachian Outdoors, a local outfitter. Last summer, the Club screened Fire on the Track, a biopic of Steve Prefontaine, a legendary American distance runner who died tragically in a car wreck in 1975 when he was still a rising star on the world track scene. After the movie, Harry gave a Q and A about "Pre", coaching, and one of Pre's great rivals, Penn State's Greg Fredericks. Harry recounted one of their closest head-to-head races (Pre won), and then went on to give a touching tribute to his younger "brother" Fredericks, whom I'm honored to be able to run with.

Coach Groves always had a reputation as a salty, curmudgeonly old cuss who would work his athletes hard, but also brought the best out of them. Even in retirement, Harry keeps in touch with and inspires his old team members, and up-and-coming athletes, too. Harry put together a team for the 20K Distance Classic at this year's Penn Relays. Captained by one of his former athletes and assistant coaches, Artie Gilkes, the team took first place with Gilkes finishing 3rd overall.

In the videos below of the Q and A, we see Harry on his best behavior. (Harry can say some startlingly inappropriate things, but also knows his audience.) But he's always honest, and entertaining. And generous. And really, quite a pussy cat when you get to know him. Harry just turned 80 a few weeks ago. And his younger "brother" Greg Fredericks? Greg just turned 60 last weekend. And he really is, as Harry says, one of the nicest guys in the world.

[HT - Tara Murray]

First They Came For Hitler

The company that unwittingly has done more to educate the world about Adolf Hitler is now attempting to undo that feat. In 2004, the German film company Constantin Films released Der Untergang, known in America as The Downfall. It's an excellent film about the last days of Hitler and the Third Reich. The thing is, the film was not very well known outside of Germany until the start of the Downfall parody meme. Beginning in late 2007, parodies began appearing on YouTube using a scene where Hitler launches into a tirade upon being informed by his generals that the war is truly lost. In the parodies, subtitles are used to give the tirade alternate meanings. The parodies have involved, politics, sports, popular culture, even the parodies themselves. And even though the parodies were done by amateurs, and were of uneven quality, the great performance of Bruno Ganz as Hitler, and the inventiveness of the parodies, kept them strangely outside the realm of the "overdone".

But now Constantin Films is in the process of trying to get the Hitler parodies removed from YouTube for copyright violation. And though there are hundreds of these parodies, Constantin has had some success. The parody makers, of course, are screaming about the Fair Use Doctrine, while admitting that it would be expensive and probably futile for individuals to fight Constantin and YouTube/Google in a long court battle.

Of course, immediately upon release of news of Constantin's action, a new Downfall parody was released, this one showing Hitler upset over Constantin's action. Watch it now while you still have the chance. (Embedding has been disabled on the Constantin parody.)

The fight over Constantin's actions should be fun to watch, since it will undoubtedly involve more parodies. And Constantin may be shooting itself in the foot, since the parodies have greatly increased awareness of that exceptional film. The parody meme should give Constantin pause. What if the meme had never existed? What if Hitler had never existed? Oh. It's been done.

[HT - Brother Chris via Facebook, Instapundit, Reason.]

Love and Death in Haiti

Matt Labash is one of my favorite writers for the Weekly Standard. He's always had a bit of Hunter Thompson and P. J. O'Rourke in him. Writing, for him, often entails adventure. Getting down with the locals, He's got enough down-home, good ol' boy irreverence that he could write a diverting piece about redneck moonshiners, fly-fishermen, oddball politicians, and cranks of all kinds, and make you feel like you met someone interesting. But he's always been a bit of a smart-aleck, and it sometimes amazed me that he could convince people who maybe should know better to open up to him. Lately, he's branched out a little, moving into the mean city streets. Last year he wrote a couple of long pieces, one on the bombed out moonscape that is Detroit and the people who still live there, the other on the unquashable Marion Berry. But even though Labash writes with sensitivity, there's always the bemused wise-cracker lurking in his voice. 

So back in early March, my copy of the Weekly Standard arrived with a most depressing cover. It showed a man, obviously fighting revulsion, dragging a body bag from a ruined building in Haiti. And the cover story was a long one. I was busy getting ready to go to Europe, and really didn't want to trudge through a depressing story about an earthly Hell recently made ever more hellish. But the writer was Matt Labash. As the magazine sat on my stack, I kept thinking: Why would they send Labash? How would, how could his outlook and style fit in such a place?

I finally read the story last week and it was one of the most affecting pieces of journalism I've ever read. A large part of Labash's story is a profile of Fr. Rick Frechette's work in the ruins of Haiti. And Labash brings out the humanity of this down-to-earth saint who is doing God's work and bringing God's grace to a place that seems all but God-forsaken. It is a story that is at once astonishing, humbling, and inspiring. A saint, among other things, is a person who is to be an example of how we are to love. Fr. Frechette is such an example. If you're like me, it's probably not the kind of story you'd want to pick up and read. But read it.

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter! Today, my family had our traditional Easter Brunch. The table had fewer people present. Daughter Christina is enjoying Easter in Paris. Some of our usual guests from the neighborhood were unable to join us today. And so it was just my wife, my son, and me. But Vicky pulled out all the stops, as usual. Three people sitting down to a feast means there'll be a lot of leftovers. And now, dishes done, my wife and I are heading to Buffalo for a mini-family reunion at my sister Amy's place. Three of my five siblings and many of their children will be there, and ready to enjoy another feast tomorrow on Dyngus Day.

Though we often write about Lent, Holy Week, Christmas, and the other Christian Holidays, Mazurland has never said much about much about Easter itself. But we have mentioned that, despite the "airplay" of Christmas, Easter is truly the most important of all Christian Holy Days. It is a day of pure joy. And even if your Lent has not been up to standards, remember that today you have been raised, too. Keep your mind set on higher things.

Keeping Up With Holy Week

You can have the best intentions for Lent, and still fall to the vicissitudes of your busy life. And even given a Lent well spent, Holy Week is busy, both with church activities, and with the swirl of Spring. As Winter wanes, daily life presents more demands. Getting the house and yard set for Summer, kids starting their last push in school, work activities. They all detract from concentration on the season. And it doesn't help if your Lent hasn't met your own expectations. But that's what Holy Week is for. It's your last chance to do it right. 

The way my Lent has gone this year, I feel like I need a do-over. Most years, I give myself a passing grade (as if I'm the one doing the grading). I give myself a set of spiritual goals, and I get most of them done. The goals might not be too onerous, but I feel like I've accomplished something beyond what I'd do the rest of the year by the time Easter rolls around. This year has been, if not an "epic fail" (I did not murder anyone), a plain victory for spiritual sloth. And maybe that's a spiritual lesson in itself. And a lick, a spit, and a promise for next year.

And here it is, Holy Saturday. I made up some ground over Holy Week, but now I"m back to breaking my own "rules", snacking and drinking some wine as I watch the Final Four games. I have to remember, what was Jesus doing on this day? I mean, He had just saved mankind from itself. But He still had to convince some people that that's exactly what he'd done. That meant Resurrection and 40 days of unannounced appearances. Why not take a break? That's what I'd do. But what was He doing? He was busy, even today.

Then That Cat Will Stay Out For The Night

Here's a post with some music appropriate for April Fool's Day. It's a video of Herb Ellis (on the right) and Barney Kessel (left) jamming on one of the greatest cartoon show theme songs of all time, the Flintstones Theme. Ellis plays so fast on this video that he's ahead of the video! (Seriously, it's a mis-synch. I hate when videos have that problem, but this one's not too bad.)

Herb Ellis died on Sunday at the age of 88. He was among the last of his generation of jazz guitar players. If you scour YouTube for videos of Ellis playing, you see that many of the people he jammed with on those videos have passed away: Charlie Byrd, Tal Farlow, Joe Pass, and the other player on this video, Barney Kessel. Others innovators of Ellis's generation are gone, too, among them Les Paul and George Van Eps. It's a blessing that Toots Thielemanns (who is even better known for his whistling and harmonica playing) and Bucky Pizzarelli, both in their 80s, are still active. If you can catch one of their shows, do it. You'll be listening to a legend.

The Real Marathon Story

Since it's late March, many of my running buddies are at the peak of their training for the Boston Marathon, which is three weeks from Monday. I'm sure most of you have heard the story of the Greek messenger Phidippides and the first Marathon. The poor guy died of exhaustion after running to Athens from the plain at Marathon to give news of the Greek victory there over an invading Persian army. His dying word, "Nike!", was not a plug for a running shoe, but the announcement of "Victory!" But the Reader's Digest version of the story misses most of the amazing facts about the achievements of both Phidippides and the Greeks. It's a tale of courage, daring, and amazing endurance. The Battle of Marathon was, in a sense, the first mass marathon, whose participants were the entire Athenian army. Read the riveting story here.

[HT - Kathy]

Mazurland In Europe - Installment I

Your European correspondent is back from a whirlwind trip to Spain and France that was full of adventures, some intended and some not, some good and some not. I hope to have a couple more posts on the trip in the next several days, and those will have the good parts of the trip. But lets get the bad out of the way first. Actually, my daughter Christina has already done that much better, and in more detail, than I have energy for. She has nailed it in a long post on her travel blog today entitled "Barcelona/The Apocalypse". The only comment I have on her post, aside from it being a very entertaining read, is that she was a little unfair in her title to Barcelona. It was, after all, upon leaving Spain that our troubles really began. (Aside on Barcelona: My wife and I have often daydreamed about the places abroad that we'd like to visit, most of them in Europe. And I've wondered, given that most people in America can go to Europe at most a few times in their lives, where I might like to go more than once. Of course, this can only be determined with certainty after you visit a place once. Barcelona is now one of those places. Though my first impression was brief, it was very favorable. Barcelona is already one of my favorite cities!)

Before you read Christina's post, I'll give you the Reader's Digest version: We were stranded on a train for over 24 hours on the Mediterranean coast at the border of Spain and France due to a freak snow storm. Though this storm happened in a place that seldom has to deal with any snow at all, it was not just a matter of a warm weather locale being paralyzed by a few snowflakes. The storm delivered between 6 and 16 inches (it varied widely from place to place) of heavy, "heart attack" snow over a wide area, with strong winds and lightning. It caused wide-spread power outages. And it caused our train to be stuck for over a day. The morning after the storm, a French TV news crew made its way to our stranded train (the roads were nearly impassable). We got on French news. Here's a story on the storm from the European media.

A few days later, we traveled through the same small coastal town where we had been stranded. We told tales of the storm to the passengers who were on our return trip. Most of the snow was gone. I'm including a few before/after photos here to give you an idea.

The train station at Cerbère, France. Things were looking bleak.

Just outside the station at Cerbère. The snow continued to fall all night after this gray scene was captured.

The morning after the storm. The snow doesn't look too deep here. It was very wet snow that had already been packed down by strong winds.

Five days after the storm. Almost like it never happened.

After the storm, our trip was mostly uneventful until the return home. Then Mother Nature turned capricious again and caused our puddle jumper from Newark to Harrisburg to be canceled (windy rain storms this time). I rented a car and we drove the last leg home.

Across The Pond

Tomorrow, my wife, son, and I are headed to France via Spain to visit my world-traveling daughter. We plan to have a whirlwind tour of Barcelona, then a more leisurely 5 days in southern France. We'll visit Montpellier (where my daughter is studying), the Pope's old digs in Avignon, a favorite hideout of van Gogh, a medieval walled city, an old Roman aqueduct, and perhaps some ruined fortresses and a cave whose walls were painted by Frenchmen millennia ago. We'll sample the wines of the Rhône, taste bouillabaisse in Provence, and eat cassoulet in Languedoc. My wife and I are scurrying around getting some last minute packing done. So why am I writing this? Just to let you know that blogging, by me, will be light-to-non-existent until we get back a week from Sunday. Rest assured, we'll give you the Mazurland perspective on Transpondian Culture. To entertain you in our absence, catch up on my daughter's travel blog. She spent her weeklong break in London and Dublin and has written quite a bit since you last checked.