Brian Jay Jones's Blog, page 24

Noah Webster (NO-uh WEB-stur): (1) See "obsessive compulsive;" (2) See 1.

Joshua Kendall has written a fine new biography of Noah Webster, that obsessive compulsive hunter and gatherer of information and compiler of obscure information. I've got lots more to say about it, but if you wanna know more, don't look here; instead, check out my review at the Washington Independent Review of Books.

And while you're at it, consider subscribing to the Washington Review.  If you miss reading regular reviews of books in your local newspaper, the Washington Review can help fill the void.  Go get it.

Noah Webster (NO-uh WEB-stur): (1) See "obsessive compulsive;" (2) Repeat.

Joshua Kendall has written a fine new biography of Noah Webster, that obsessive compulsive hunter and gatherer of information and compiler of obscure information. I've got lots more to say about it, but if you wanna know more, don't look here; instead, check out my review at the Washington Independent Review of Books.

And while you're at it, consider subscribing to the Washington Review.  If you miss reading regular reviews of books in your local newspaper, the Washington Review can help fill the void.  Go get it.

Car Trouble

My inability to fix cars is near legendary in our household. Oh, I can make it look like I know what I'm doing, propping open the hood and staring into the engine block with a concerned look on my face. But I might as well be staring into a dumpster for all the good I can do.

Not my dad.  My dad can listen to a car cranking, his head tilted slightly to the side, and determine, for the most part, exactly what's wrong without ever opening the hood. It's partly generational, I think — his generation spawned the sort of fellow who loved taking an engine apart on a Saturday just for the fun of cleaning it and putting it back together on a Sunday — though it also has something to do with the way cars today are made.  Most times, you can't tell what's wrong with a car unless you take it to a mechanic — who then plugs it into a special computer so the car can tell HIM what's wrong. It's a matter of having the right machinery, I suppose.

And then there are the days when it's clear I shouldn't be allowed near a car at all.

Recently, my car—a ten-year-old Saturn with 150,000 miles on it that I plan on driving until it implodes—failed its Maryland emissions test. I wasn't too surprised—it had started rough the morning I took it in for its test, and it ran rough all day.  The next morning, it wouldn't start at all.

For the next week or so, I grumbled about calling a tow truck to drag the car to the shop, and every once in a while would go out and sit in the driver's seat to crank the engine, hoping that this time — this time! — it would turn over.  It didn't.

My dad stood by patiently during one of these cranking sessions, listening with his head tilted slightly to the side.  "That sounds like a battery problem," he said. "Why don't you pop the hood so I can take a look?"

I reached to the floor and pulled the lever, and there was that muffled PLOOMF! sound the hood makes when it pops — only when I came around to the front of the car, I couldn't get the damn hood to pull open. "Add THAT to the list, now," I groaned.  "I'll call a tow truck tomorrow." My dad sipped his coffee for a moment. "I'll see what I can do," he said.

Later that afternoon, I ran errands for several hours. When I returned home, my dad had the hood of the car propped open, and was charging the battery with a portable charger.

"What is . . . I mean, how did you get the hood to open?" I asked. "I pulled the lever and couldn't get it to work!"

"You were popping open the trunk," my dad said.

I shouldn't be allowed near cars at all.

Pull the String!

I'm back from Atlanta, where I spent two days talking with lots of Interesting and Wonderful People — including Vince Anthony and his crack staff at the Center for Puppetry Arts, where I had an opportunity to tour the museum (including its collection of Henson-related materials), learn a bit more about the history of the art form, and scour their video archives.  I also had a chance to watch a performance of "The Dragon King" — performed by the Tanglewood Marionettes of Ware, Massachusetts — right along with 200 enthusiastic elementary school students who squealed with delight in all the right places. Here's a look:

For more information on the Center for Puppetry Arts, click here.

If It's Tuesday, This Must Be…Uh…

When I last saw you, I had just returned from Hollywood.  Since that time, I've been to New York, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh — and now it's off to Atlanta where, among a few other things, I'll be paying a visit to the Center for Puppetry Arts.  I promise to be back here soon.  With pictures, even.

Life's Like A Movie…

Last Friday, I spent the morning at the Jim Henson Company and studios in Hollywood, where I took some time to poke around, then had yet another fascinating conversation with An Amazing Person.  Following that, I returned to my hotel, e-mailed the digital files of my conversations off to be transcribed, then collapsed with probably the worst case of jet lag I have ever had in my life.  And that's only a three hour time change.  Whatta wimp.

The Jim Henson Company works out of a really neat, and important, piece of Hollywood history.  Back in 1999, the Henson family purchased the old Charlie Chaplin studios, which Chaplin built in 1917 and opened in 1918. Here's the plaque mounted to the wall just outside the front entrance:

This is the studio where Chaplin filmed classics like The Gold Rush, Modern Times and The Great Dictator, which makes it officially the stuff of Hollywood legend.  What makes the studio really interesting, though, is that Chaplin, like Jim Henson, couldn't do anything in an ordinary way.  His studio, then, pulled off a bit of theatrical sleight of hand: from the street, it looked like a very proper English Tudor village, straight out of the 18th century — or, at least, a stage set built to look like one.  Once you were through the gates, however, everything was purely state of the art — a tradition that continues to this day.

The Hensons extensively renovated and refurbished the old studios (after leaving Chaplin's hands, it belonged to CBS then A&M records) and in 2000, made it the new headquarters for The Jim Henson Company.  As Brian Henson said back in 2000:

"When we heard that the Chaplin lot was for sale, we had to have it. It's the perfect home for the Muppets and our particular brand of classy, but eccentric entertainment. When people walk onto our lot, they fall in love with Hollywood again."

Mission accomplished, I'd say; it's a wonderful place.  Here's the view of the exterior of the building, as you approach it from the south on La Brea Avenue:

As you can see, as a tribute to Chaplin, there's a statue of Kermit in Chaplin's trademark derby and baggy pants just beside the entrance.  Here's a somewhat better picture, taken from just outside the front gate:

Just for a bit of historical perspective, here's a view of the studio during Chaplin's day . . .

…and now:

There's one more tribute to Chaplin as you stroll past.  Just below Kermit is an arch-topped wooden door — you can see it in the photo above — which has now been affectionately painted to allow Chaplin to make a cameo appearance at his old studio:

Neat, huh?  Finally, just for fun, here's a brief clip from The Chaplin Revue — narrated by Chaplin himself — with a bit of information about the studio, including a time-lapse film of it being built.

The Hills, The Stars, The Stacks of Wax

I'm sitting in front of the window in my fourteenth floor hotel room in Hollywood, overlooking Hollywood Hills, and it's sunny and very springish outside, which makes me wish that the sudden touch of winter we had in Maryland earlier this week would finally just pack up and leave. While I can't see the famous HOLLYWOOD sign from my window (thanks to the rest of the hotel looming up to my right) there's no mistaking where I am.

The Hollywood Bowl is just over that hill, and the famous Magic Castle — official home of the Academy of Magic Arts — is the yellow building visible at center left, with the gray roof and turret. Oh, I also apparently forgot there's some sort of formal awards ceremony going on this coming Sunday, which explains why the lobby of my hotel is bustling with people wearing name badges proclaiming them as part of an OSCAR SET-UP CREW. Who knew.

I arrived here yesterday with plenty of time to spare before my interview last evening, so I decided to walk over to Roscoe's on Gower Street, which meant my footsteps took me right along the famous Hollywood Walk of Fame — which, as I think I've mentioned before, is both exciting and sort of depressing.  It's fun to pick out the famous names as you stroll the sidewalk, but it's a bit shocking to see stars for former heavy hitters like Gary Cooper or Katherine Hepburn gracing the pavement in front of a tattoo parlor — and it's even more heartbreaking to hear someone say "I don't even know who these people are!" as they step past the star for James Cagney.  (Okay, maybe you don't know George Cukor, but James Cagney? )

Oh, and I did manage to find this one — which, I'm happy to say, was not in front of a tattoo parlor or cigarette shop:

Meanwhile, the Sinatra fan in me couldn't resist snapping a quick shot of this famous building:

Ring-a-ding-ding, baby.

After stuffing myself on chicken and waffles, as promised, I made the much-needed long walk back to my hotel and spent the next few hours preparing for my interview.  While it seems that an interview should be easy — especially when you're the one asking the questions — I like to go in prepared, so I spend time reading over my questions several times, making notes where I may need to clarify something, or making sure I have any materials handy that I might want to have my subject read or look at during our conversation. I also try to make sure the questions are in something that at least looks like a logical order so I don't disorient them — or me — by jumping from topic to topic, though that's always bound to happen once you get talking.

Finally, around 6:00 or so, I got into the rental car and drove down Sunset Boulevard, looking very much out of place in my Ford Focus as I headed for Beverly Hills. And I had a fantastic evening, with great conversation and even better company.

Today, it's back to Jim Henson Studios over on La Brea.  Stay tuned.

Over and Under and Through

I'm off bright and early tomorrow morning to head to Los Angeles to conduct several interviews — and, if I have time, catch lunch or dinner at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles.  Next week , it's interviews in New York and Pittsburgh, and an Irving event in Philadelphia. I'm counting on not knowing what day it is for the next two weeks. But I plan to report back here this week, so keep watching.

You Better, You Bet

My pal Scott S. Phillips has just released his new novel Squirrel Eyes, and it's ready for you to download right now in either ePub or Kindle format over on Amazon. Scott is one of the funniest and most talented writers I know — he can turn a phrase like no one's business, and make even a mundane activity like eating Froot Loops sound funny or exciting — so I can guarantee you'll have fun.

In fact, if you agree to write a review of Squirrel Eyes for Goodreads, you can download the thing for free.  Go on; shoot him an e-mail at edpscott (AT) gmail (DOT) com, and tell him I sent ya.  (Or leave a comment, and I'll put you in touch.) I've known Scott for more  than 25 years, so believe me — I know what I'm talking about when I tell you he's great.

If you don't wanna write a review, but want to read Scott anyway, you can still get Squirrel Eyes right here.

Speaking of book reviews, there's a new player in town, courtesy of my colleague David O. Stewart.  It's the Washington Independent Review of Books, "a labor of love," as David put it, "produced by dozens of writers and editors, mostly in the Washington area, who are dismayed by the disappearance of book reviews and book review sections in the mainstream media."  It's only been live about a week, but it's already crammed with lots of good stuff, including interviews and an up-to-the-minute news feed on all things publishing.  Bookmark it now.

Finally, Kurt Vonnegut biographer Charles J. Shields has a new blog, Writing Kurt Vonnegut, where he'll write about . .  . well, writing Kurt Vonnegut, but also pretty much anything else that crosses his mind.  Light fuse, then stand back — Charles, like Vonnegut, is always a helluva lotta fun to read.

Breakfast (and Lunch) of Champions

There's something else I've come to love about biography: biographers.  Last week, Barb and I had a wonderful Indian dinner in DC with Charles J. Shields and his lovely wife Guadalupe, who had braved bad weather and slick roads to attend the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference. It was a terrific time, with good food and even better company — and I'm even more excited now about getting my hands on Charles' upcoming biography of Kurt Vonnegut, which his publisher, Henry Holt,  is rightly making its Christmas 2011 centerpiece bio.

Speaking of top-notch biographers, the Biographers International Organization recently announced that its recipient for the 2011 BIO award — which also means its keynote lunch speaker for this year's conference here in DC — will be Robert Caro.

Yes, you heard me — and forgive me for being crass here, but — ROBERT EFFING CARO. If there's a Mount Rushmore of Biographers, he's on it.  If there's a Beatles of Biographers, he's John Lennon. A two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize, his comprehensive, multi-part biography of President Lyndon Johnson stands — in my view, at least — as the ultimate example of what great biography should be: thorough without being mind-numbing, dramatic without being histrionic, and scholarly without being pedantic. (I've described my favorite book of his, the third volume of his Lyndon Johnson biography, Master of the Senate, as a biographical thriller.)

We're less than a hundred days away from the 2011 BIO conference, and slots — as well as hotel rooms — are filling quickly, so if you're interested in attending, click here for complete information.  As a member of the Washington Biography Group, which is serving as this year's host, I'll be moderating one panel, but I'll also be participating as a panelist during the session on "The Role for Fiction in Biography."

Last year's conference was hugely successful, and a lot of fun.  And you don't have to be a biographer or even a writer to attend. Just loving books is more than enough.