Baydog, Robert Service, like Jack London, gained much inspiration for his writing from his experiences in the Yukon Gold Rush. When one of the old salts in the Rio Grande Sailing Club, John Bristol, died a few years ago, he asked that this poem be read in his memory. I got to do the reading.
That voice used to crackle across New Jersey every night and north and south, up and down the whole eastern seaboard, thanks to the fact that WOR was assigned an 'open' frequency - one that no other east coast radio station was on.
It carried to my little corner of the world where I'd listen to that voice spinning all sorts of peculiar tales, night after night. Sometimes those tales were interwoven with impromptu readings of Robert Service poems.
If my writing style bugs you, that voice is more than a little to blame.
In the comments thread to his post about the natural amphitheater a typical random walk through topics led from iroko to Rocky Rococo to Rocky Racoon to Dan McGrew to a confession from O Docker that when he was a "dysfunctional adolescent" he used to enjoy listening to Jean Shepherd late at night on a New York radio station reading The Shooting of Dan McGrew. I couldn't find Dan McGrew but I did find this YouTube of Shepherd reading Sam McGee which is very much in the same style.
And od course the poem fits on a boating blog because it's about a derelict boat on the marge of Lake Lebarge.
For the record, I enjoyed both of these poems in my own dysfunctional adolescence.
Come to think of it, I remember the father of the shirtless dude in front of Sunfish #6 loving to listen to Jean Shepherd. We all have these little connections, don't we?
7 comments:
Is that the fire cracklin' or the old LP?
Where in the hell did that come from? I loved it. Reminded me of the Donner party sort of, but they would have eaten him medium rare.
WV: comidia (go figure)
Baydog, Robert Service, like Jack London, gained much inspiration for his writing from his experiences in the Yukon Gold Rush. When one of the old salts in the Rio Grande Sailing Club, John Bristol, died a few years ago, he asked that this poem be read in his memory. I got to do the reading.
Thanks, Carol Anne!
You're right, Baydog, where did this come from, indeed?
Do you recognize the voice of the narrator?
That voice used to crackle across New Jersey every night and north and south, up and down the whole eastern seaboard, thanks to the fact that WOR was assigned an 'open' frequency - one that no other east coast radio station was on.
It carried to my little corner of the world where I'd listen to that voice spinning all sorts of peculiar tales, night after night. Sometimes those tales were interwoven with impromptu readings of Robert Service poems.
If my writing style bugs you, that voice is more than a little to blame.
I posted it for O Docker.
In the comments thread to his post about the natural amphitheater a typical random walk through topics led from iroko to Rocky Rococo to Rocky Racoon to Dan McGrew to a confession from O Docker that when he was a "dysfunctional adolescent" he used to enjoy listening to Jean Shepherd late at night on a New York radio station reading The Shooting of Dan McGrew. I couldn't find Dan McGrew but I did find this YouTube of Shepherd reading Sam McGee which is very much in the same style.
And od course the poem fits on a boating blog because it's about a derelict boat on the marge of Lake Lebarge.
For the record, I enjoyed both of these poems in my own dysfunctional adolescence.
I thought the name Jean Shepherd sounded familiar! And thank is a better word than blame.
Come to think of it, I remember the father of the shirtless dude in front of Sunfish #6 loving to listen to Jean Shepherd. We all have these little connections, don't we?
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