The storm about which I wrote on the Friday Substack left a mark on Jasperwood, tearing off an enormous limb from the front yard tree, and leaving it spindly. It missed the house. Workman had to be called and paid. It was a downbeat way to start the day - buckets of money thrown into a fire, the odd role The House has suddenly attained (Stay? Move? Fix? Go?) and how that underscores a sense of uncertainty. Of course, the rest of the day was gloomy and rainy. And I like the occasional gloomy / rainy day.
Did some rote morning work on future projects, then considered how to reattain mojo. There are insufficient mojo reserves. I know what you’re saying - when the gauge reads empty you’ve still some mojo left, enough to get you to the next place to refill. But I’d rather ride around with a topped-off tank. I’m not even asking for premium mojo. Just plain unleaded.
Just got the bid for removal: hah, no. Wife was there to tell them to sod off, more or less, although I’m sure she put it in nicer terms. Also looking for a neighbor with a chainsaw, which means I will probably be writing these future entries with one hand, periodically massaging a stump that insists it’s connected to an actual shin, which itches.
LATER I found a guy who'd do it for a quarter of the first offer. More if I wanted it hauled away, but they'd chop it up for firewood and charge a lower fee. Firewood it was. The fellow showed up on a cold and drizzly Saturday morning, and set to work. Done in an hour. And here my labors began.
How to get it down to the garage for stacking and storage? Down the hill, I mean. Well. I hit upon the brilliant idea of tossing the chunks of sundered wood into a lawn-waste bin, dragging it down the hill, dragging it up the walk, and into the garage. The bin had wheels, which was great! On the sidewalk, anyway. On the hill, it teetered and tottered and wanted so very very much to tip, so I had to go down the hill holding the bin behind me, bracing it, sensing the shifts in weight. It took eight trips. I cleaned out a ton of stuff from the garage shelf to make room, and that meant parting with two big boxes of CDs. I had it in the back of my head that I would go through them all to see what I'd ripped but misplaced, but in the end I realized . . . it doesn't matter.
Oh but that CD has a piece of tape with a number on it!
Which means . . . what? I knew right away. When I would show up at the radio station I would hand my producer my evening bumper music, with a piece of masking tape that indicate the hour, and the tracks I wanted. I think I still have these markings on the Capitol Lounge series, which I will never give away. They're in the Closet of Treasures.
Hmm:
"Anxiety Dream Theater" 18
That must have been a regular bit. The eighteenth track was Dean Elliot and his Big Band. Lonesome Road. Good Lord, what sort of dream did I have?
Elliott went on to compose for a number of Dr. Seuss' cartoons before joining DePatie-Freleng Enterprises in 1975 to commence work on their Return to the Planet of the Apes series for which he provided incidental music.
Hold on, there was an animated version of the Apes movie?
I'm not sure many Saturday morning cartoon shows started with a images of inverted crucifixion.
His bio has unusual details:
On January 30, 1949, Elliott married Lila Lee Fisher Elliott (1924-1962); Lila was killed in a car crash involving a geyser in 1962.
I found the story.
Yikes. Also: missed it by this much:
Elliott died from Alzheimer's disease surgery on December 31, 1999
Seems apt he went out with the 20th century.
Anyway. I got all the wood put away. This was not the most significant event of the weekend, but the longest-lasting. If I see that wood in three years I'll remember the day I dragged it down and put it away.
The trademarks of a 100 years ago is our theme this year.
Well, that's a natural connection between name and product:
Jersey fabric originated in the Channel Islands, particularly on the island of Jersey, where it was traditionally used for underwear and sweaters for fishermen. This versatile fabric has historical roots dating back to the Middle Ages, when Jersey was a significant exporter of knitted goods. The name "Jersey" likely has roots in English and Old Norse, meaning "island," which reflects its geographic and historical origins.
Wonder what happened to the company! Probably long gone.
(kidding)
This week it's not just TV, it's obscure British TV. This is straightforward: a London detective series.
Tonight:
This name meant something to the audience, I assume:
Donald Gray (born Eldred Owermann Tidbury, 3 March 1914 – 7 April 1978) was a South African actor, well known for his starring role in the British TV series Mark Saber, for providing the voices of Colonel White, Captain Black and the Mysterons in Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons, and for being the reason that Donald Marshall Gray changed his name to Charles Gray when he became an actor.
Quite popular, extensively repackaged.
Gray then starred as the one-armed detective Mark Saber in the British TV series of the same name, which ran for 156 episodes from 1955 to 1961. It was originally titled Mark Saber, or The Vise in the United States, but was later known as Saber of London and Detective's Diary. In 1957, The Vise was renamed, redeveloped, and transferred from ABC to NBC under the new title Saber of London.
We meet him right away, where he is visiting the Bureau of Rear Projection:
"In 1944, he was injured by a German anti-tank shell in Caen, France, and his left arm was amputated."
Not many one-armed TV star detectives, then or now. They didn't hide it at all, not that they should've:
Let's go to the action:
Exciting London!
Actually, it's a bit underwhelming. At least today.
The inadvertant documentary always hits the same locales:
Anyway, here’s the thing. Saber goes to a bar to investigate the background of a recently murdered girl. There’s a pianist in the background, noodling away.
A seasoned viewer might think “well, that’s the killer, right there,” but no.
Which does not mean he was blameless.
Rolf Harris (30 March 1930 – 10 May 2023) was an Australian musician, television personality, painter, and actor. He often used unusual instruments like the didgeridoo and the Stylophone in his performances, and is credited with the invention of the wobble board. He was convicted in England in 2014 of the sexual assault of four underage girls, which effectively ended his career.
Yes, that's him. Makes the image above look . . . worse.
Diner Monday! I said I'll post it at the bottom, and I did.
It's about saving and hoarding and backing up and preserving. All of which may be pointless, I guess.
That will do. Another week begins here at the Bleat with your usual Matchbook update, and a free column at the Substack. Enjoy your day!
