The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

This Week's Hopper #15

Summertime (1943)


Vanwall said...

To paraphrase Mr. Bernstein: "A fellow will remember a lot of things you wouldn't think he'd remember. You take me. One day, back in 1943, I was driving past a walk-up downtown, and there was a girl waiting out front to my left. She was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat. A white dress she had on. I only saw her for one second. She didn't see me at all, but I'll bet a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl."

swac said...

Heh...part of me was wondering if R. Crumb ever saw this when he was a young'un.

R.H. said...

In Santa Monica I bought about forty postcards like that. I've framed them. My social worker niece doesn't like the crime novel covers:

"Love Cheat"
("A novel packed with exotic thrills")

"The Old Battle Axe"
("She wasn't ready for death")

"Leg Artist"
"Love life of a model")

And so on, all with ladies showing off their assets of course. Well social work will have to face facts one day, meanwhile it continues astonished.