April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
--Lines 1-18 of The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)
Oh, to be in England now that April ’s there
And whoever wakes in England sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!
And after April, when May follows
And the white-throat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossom’d pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray’s edge—
That ’s the wise thrush: he sings each song twice over
Lest you should think he never could re-capture
The first fine careless rapture!
And, though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children’s dower,
Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!
--Home Thoughts from Abroad by Robert Browning (1812-1889)
Life is not a highway strewn with flowers,
Still it holds a goodly share of bliss,
When the sun gives way to April showers,
Here's a thought that we should never miss:
Though April showers
May come your way,
They bring the flowers
That bloom in May;
And if it's raining,
Have no regrets;
Because, it isn't raining rain, you know,
It's raining violets.
And when you see clouds
Upon the hill,
You soon will see crowds
Of daffodils;
So keep on looking for the bluebird,
And listening for his song,
Whenever April showers come along.
--"April Showers", a 1921 song by Louis Silvers (music) and B. G. De Sylva (lyrics), made popular by singer Al Jolson
Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour,
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem Nature in hir corages),
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.
--Lines 1-14 of Prologue to The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer (1340?-1400)
Speaking of "whan that they were seeke", the statistics as of 17:20 GMT today, April 20, 2020, from the World Health Organization (WHO) about the COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic are:
No. of cases worldwide: 911,570
No. of deaths: 45,536
No. recovered: 190,921
No. of active cases: 675,113
--in mild condition (95%): 640,257
--in serious or critical condition (5%): 34,856
No. of closed cases: 236,457
--No. recovered/discharged (81%): 190,921
--No. of deaths (19%): 45,536
It is my intention to post updated figures from WHO on May 1st, June 1st, etc. so that we can keep our heads about us as the days go by. The current numbers do not seem to match what Doctors Fauci and Birx are telling the American public, that the death rate is 10 times that of the flu (which is 0.1%) or 1% -- I have been keeping track every afternoon for about a week and the death figures worldwide compared to confirmed cases worldwide seem to be running steadily at around 5%. I'm not trying to alarm anybody, I just believe that truth is better than, if not fiction, wishful thinking.
Showing posts with label Al Jolson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Al Jolson. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
Friday, April 19, 2013
Before April disappears for another year
...I want to present you with a treasure from the past, a “golden oldie.” It’s Al Jolson singing “April Showers” (3:06).
I hear some of you asking, “Al who?” and I hand you now a virtual towel because you are obviously still wet behind the ears.
Jolson -- J as in junta, U as in ubiquitous, N as in numismatic, T as in tetracycline, A as in aphrodisiac.
Wait. That spells junta, not Jolson. I lost my head there for a minute. A thousand pardons.
What I meant to say was Jolson -- J as in jarring, O as in onomatopoeia, L as in lugubriously, S as in surreptitious, O as in obsequious, N as in Nefertiti.
J, O, L, S, O, N. Jolson.
Let’s say it together, class:
Jolson.
If you have a little time to spare, you might also want to read every word of this Wikipedia article about Al Jolson.
Then listen to him sing that song again.
Here’s another “golden oldie,” a true one, even older than Al Jolson:
(Photograph by Philippe Pikart, 2009, of the bust of Nefertiti from the Ägyptisches Museum Berlin collection, currently in the Neues Museum.)
You can read about her here.
Then there will be nothing left to do but sit back and hum Al’s song and wait for the flowers that bloom in May.
If only life were that simple.
I hear some of you asking, “Al who?” and I hand you now a virtual towel because you are obviously still wet behind the ears.
Jolson -- J as in junta, U as in ubiquitous, N as in numismatic, T as in tetracycline, A as in aphrodisiac.
Wait. That spells junta, not Jolson. I lost my head there for a minute. A thousand pardons.
What I meant to say was Jolson -- J as in jarring, O as in onomatopoeia, L as in lugubriously, S as in surreptitious, O as in obsequious, N as in Nefertiti.
J, O, L, S, O, N. Jolson.
Let’s say it together, class:
Jolson.
If you have a little time to spare, you might also want to read every word of this Wikipedia article about Al Jolson.
Then listen to him sing that song again.
Here’s another “golden oldie,” a true one, even older than Al Jolson:
(Photograph by Philippe Pikart, 2009, of the bust of Nefertiti from the Ägyptisches Museum Berlin collection, currently in the Neues Museum.)
You can read about her here.
Then there will be nothing left to do but sit back and hum Al’s song and wait for the flowers that bloom in May.
If only life were that simple.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Though April showers may come your way, they bring the flowers that bloom in May.
Here is the photograph for the month of April in that 1975 Jenkintown, Pennsylvania, School District Centennial Calendar that I told you about in my last post.
Clicking on the photograph should give you a closer view.
I apologize for the blurriness, which resulted from my inability to keep my hand steady while taking a picture with my cell phone.
The man sitting in the chair at the left is my maternal great-grandfather, Max Silberman (1845 - 1914), who was born in Germany and came to America as a teenager. He opened Silberman’s Department Store in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania, in the late 1870s or early 1880s. The sign on the wall next to him reads, “Gloves, Suspenders, Knit Jackets, Trimmings, Ladies & Gents Underwear At Wholesale Prices.” The woman standing next to him is probably my great-grandmother, Sarah Nusbaum Silberman (1849 - 1925), who was also born in Germany. I have seen only one other photograph of her, taken when she was much older. (If it is not my great-grandmother, it might be Max’s sister, Caroline, increasing the possibility that the next person in the picture is their brother, Henry.)
See the four young boys sitting on the curb in front of the store? The second boy from the left is, I think, Nathan Silberman, my grandfather, the son of Max and Sarah, who was born on March 21, 1875, and died on December 20, 1970. If that boy is not my grandfather, he sure looks a lot like my youngest grandson, Sam. As an adult, my grandfather played the clarinet in the Pennsylvania National Guard Band during the Spanish-American War and helped found Jenkintown’s volunteer fire department. Later he owned a real estate and insurance firm in Jenkintown for many years; my Uncle Sol Silberman continued to run it after my grandfather retired. The office was on West Avenue between the Post Office (where I met Norman Land) and the bank at the corner of Old York Road (where my cousin Philip worked during his college years). On the window in gold letters were the words, “N. Silberman and Son.”
I believe that Max, Sarah, Nathan, Nathan’s wife Rosetta Aarons (1878 - 1937), her parents Solomon Aarons (1847? - 1902) and Rachael DeWolf Aarons (1847? - 1932), and even Max’s parents, Jacob (1813 - ?) and Fannie (1823 - ?) Silberman, possibly along with other relatives of mine, are all buried in Adath Jeshurun Cemetery in Philadelphia, but I’m not sure.
After having had family members live in the same small town in Pennsylvania for well over a hundred years, not a single member of my family lives there now. We cousins have scattered to the four winds.
[Editor’s note. In no way did I mean to imply that by playing the clarinet in the Pennsylvania National Guard Band during the Spanish-American War, my grandfather helped found Jenkintown’s volunteer fire department. No, indeedy. They were two separate and totally unrelated events, and this note would not have been necessary if I had put the word also before the word helped in the sentence in question. --RWP]
[Editor’s note #2. Perhaps it also would be more accurate to say he played clarinet in the band, not the clarinet, unless it was a very small band. --RWP]
[Editor’s note #3. If the Silberman and Nusbaum families had not emigrated to the United States, their descendants would probably have been killed in a World War II concentration camp, and you would not be reading this post. --RWP]
This song (3:04) is a metaphor for happy endings everywhere.
Clicking on the photograph should give you a closer view.
I apologize for the blurriness, which resulted from my inability to keep my hand steady while taking a picture with my cell phone.
The man sitting in the chair at the left is my maternal great-grandfather, Max Silberman (1845 - 1914), who was born in Germany and came to America as a teenager. He opened Silberman’s Department Store in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania, in the late 1870s or early 1880s. The sign on the wall next to him reads, “Gloves, Suspenders, Knit Jackets, Trimmings, Ladies & Gents Underwear At Wholesale Prices.” The woman standing next to him is probably my great-grandmother, Sarah Nusbaum Silberman (1849 - 1925), who was also born in Germany. I have seen only one other photograph of her, taken when she was much older. (If it is not my great-grandmother, it might be Max’s sister, Caroline, increasing the possibility that the next person in the picture is their brother, Henry.)
See the four young boys sitting on the curb in front of the store? The second boy from the left is, I think, Nathan Silberman, my grandfather, the son of Max and Sarah, who was born on March 21, 1875, and died on December 20, 1970. If that boy is not my grandfather, he sure looks a lot like my youngest grandson, Sam. As an adult, my grandfather played the clarinet in the Pennsylvania National Guard Band during the Spanish-American War and helped found Jenkintown’s volunteer fire department. Later he owned a real estate and insurance firm in Jenkintown for many years; my Uncle Sol Silberman continued to run it after my grandfather retired. The office was on West Avenue between the Post Office (where I met Norman Land) and the bank at the corner of Old York Road (where my cousin Philip worked during his college years). On the window in gold letters were the words, “N. Silberman and Son.”
I believe that Max, Sarah, Nathan, Nathan’s wife Rosetta Aarons (1878 - 1937), her parents Solomon Aarons (1847? - 1902) and Rachael DeWolf Aarons (1847? - 1932), and even Max’s parents, Jacob (1813 - ?) and Fannie (1823 - ?) Silberman, possibly along with other relatives of mine, are all buried in Adath Jeshurun Cemetery in Philadelphia, but I’m not sure.
After having had family members live in the same small town in Pennsylvania for well over a hundred years, not a single member of my family lives there now. We cousins have scattered to the four winds.
[Editor’s note. In no way did I mean to imply that by playing the clarinet in the Pennsylvania National Guard Band during the Spanish-American War, my grandfather helped found Jenkintown’s volunteer fire department. No, indeedy. They were two separate and totally unrelated events, and this note would not have been necessary if I had put the word also before the word helped in the sentence in question. --RWP]
[Editor’s note #2. Perhaps it also would be more accurate to say he played clarinet in the band, not the clarinet, unless it was a very small band. --RWP]
[Editor’s note #3. If the Silberman and Nusbaum families had not emigrated to the United States, their descendants would probably have been killed in a World War II concentration camp, and you would not be reading this post. --RWP]
This song (3:04) is a metaphor for happy endings everywhere.
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