Posted by: John G. Whitacre in Eutzly
My personal weather forecaster held firm for many weeks on his prediction that the early burst of March warmth was just that, an early burst, not the start of warm weather. He scoffed at farmers who wanted to plant early, against the advice of insurance companies that declared they would not cover crops planted before a certain date. And he was right. Just last week we had to cover our new blueberry bushes with tarps to protect them from possible frost because the summer-like week in March caused them to blossom too soon. Read the rest of this entry »
Posted by: John G. Whitacre in Books
The novel “7 1/2 Cents” opens with a sample of blue-collar Iowa conversation:
When I woke up in the morning, even before I had my eyes open, I knew I wasn’t in Chicago anymore. …
Then with breakfast, across the street at the Elite Cafe, I had to listen to this with the coffee and elastic toast:
“Was you to the dance last night out at the Royal?” says the waitress, talking through her nose.
“I was there, was you?” says a milk truck driver likewise.
“Yeah, I was there. I never seen you though.”
“Well I never seen you neither.”
“That’s funny, I was there.”
“Well, I never seen you.”
“Where was you at? I never seen you.”
“Well, it’s funny we never seen each other.”
Written by American novelist and playwright Richard Pike Bissell, “7 1/2 Cents” portrays pajama factory superintendent Sid Sorokin, fresh from Chicago, ready to give Iowa a try, but not too sure he likes it. It’s “The Music Man” a generation later, a scrutiny of a midsize Midwestern Iowa city, but in this case the sham artist is not Harold Hill, it’s Myron Hasler, the boss of Sleep Tite pajama plant, who obstinately refuses to grant the workers the raise for which the novel is named. Read the rest of this entry »
Tonight I’ll play violin in “Oliver!,” one of my favorite musicals, my affection for it dating back to 1977 when Hoover High School performed the show and my younger brother and two friends were on the stage crew. I glimpsed the inner workings of theater as cast and crew produced magic, and I entered that world of magic in 2000 when I joined Carnation City Players as a pit musician. Over the years I’ve played violin, mandolin, guitar and even ukulele at CCP, and tonight I return after a three-year absence to accompany Fagin as he ponders his future and Nancy as she declares her love for the most despicable of thieves. Read the rest of this entry »
