Something, Anything

Fenway Park in the gloaming, 21 July 2018

Another short post I fear, I linger yet in the after glow of the visit from the youngest child (you know her as The WSO, or LUSH) and her lovely daughters, my grand-kids. They flew off to rendezvous with Big Time out in Michigan for a visit with his parents this past Wednesday instant.

Big Time's Mom and Dad, or, as I will sometimes jokingly refer to them, "The Other Grandparents." Nana and Poppi as the children call them, an Italian thing I gather. Which, as I recall from my own childhood, makes things a mite simpler for the young'uns, no need to attach a last name or other distinguishing moniker to the terms Grandma and Grandpa.

The Missus Herself and I are Grandma and Grandpa (that would be Gamma and Gampa, sometimes Pop-Pop, to the littlest of the tribe, L'il Sweetie as I call her here in the friendly confines of The Chant), Big Time's Mom and Dad are Nana and Poppi, what could be more distinctive than that? (My attempts to get the kids to call me "His Imperial Majesty, Lord of All He Surveys" always results in gales of childish laughter and admonitions from my better half to "not be an idiot." Sigh.)

The house is bereft of the laughter of the wee bairns and the witty repartee of the adults of the tribe.

The feline staff on the other hand rejoices at the silence. How do they do that? Why they sleep, it's what cats do when they are not hungry.

I ran across a bit of wisdom from Our Lex on the morning of the end of the kids' visit here, which explains nicely my need, my obsession if you will, to post something each and every day here at The Chant  even if it is just some wee sma' thing (though 'tis much easier now with Juvat, Tuna, and Beans pitching in for a spell at the oars),-

It’s funny, because I’ve an almost pathological desire to write something, anything, even if it’s only a link to something thought provoking. Partly because I enjoy writing, and partly because I enjoy the interaction and discussion that blogging engenders with you, gentle reader – I guess the fear is that if I take too many days off, then it will be harder to pick back up again (or easier to abandon). Yeat’s once wrote that poems are never finished, but rather eventually abandoned. So many brave starts out there have gone dark, new voices raised only to be extinguished under the weight of continuing effort, or the perceived lack of anything left worthwhile to say. A sad thought. 

On the other hand, Stalin once famously opined that quantity had a quality all it’s own. Maybe that’s true for armored divisions, but it’s probably less so for the written word. - Lex

Miss him I do.

On another topic entirely (having to do with music, but not the Foo Fighters, not just yet, I need more time to do the concert we attended the justice it deserves), alert reader Rick passed along a tip as to some music I might enjoy. While not a big Chicago fan back in the day, I did enjoy their talent, which was immense. Anyhoo, Leonid and Friends is a Chicago cover band from, of all places, Russia.

I gave them a listen and was much impressed. So, let's collude with the Russians for a bit because, from what I understand, everyone else is...

Pretty dang good ain't they?

If that doesn't rock you enough, Rick also sent along a tip to watch the following video, a Russian lady (again with the Russians) who sings with Leonid and Friends, well when she ain't rockin' a Rolling Stones cover -

Хороший материал да?

The lady can sing neh?

More music to come.

Patience my children, patience.