Tulip

We almost blew past Tulip, Arkansas, and actually had to back up to check it out. Not quite a ghost town, more like a spectral presence where a handful of buildings and signs are left to bear witness to Tulip's stint as the "Athens of Arkansas" -- until it was virtually abandoned during the American Civil War. Nowadays, all of Dallas County, Arkansas, where Tulip is situated, amounts to about 8,000 people. In case you're wondering, the county, just like Dallas, Texas and Dallas, Pennsylvania, is named for George Mifflin Dallas (1792-1864), mayor of Philadelphia and President James Know Polk's Vice President during the Mexican-American War.

Here sits the Tulip Community Building.

In this sign, the claims for Tulip are quite grandiose: "known by the 1850s as a center for higher education, the 'Athens of the South.'"  The area's pottery heritage remains, but not much in the way of "higher education."

Not mentioned above is one of Tulip's early educators, Madame d’Estimauville de Beau Mouchel (or Beaumouchel). Apparently, she became "too intimate" with a wild character, a member of the local "elite" named Solon Borland (1808-1864). As a result of jealousy, double standards or whatnot, Madame de Beau Mouchel was forced to leave and may have relocated to New Orleans. As for Borland, in addition to his miscellaneous dallying, he worked as a doctor, pharmacist, pro-dueling newspaperman and politico. He was also a volunteer officer during the US-Mexico War, and was captured, then escaped and finally repurposed as a staff aide (ADC) for Brigadier General William Jenkins Worth (for whom Fort Worth, Texas, is named). Borland then served as a US Senator, a diplomat in Nicaragua, a secessionist and Confederate officer before dying of "natural causes" soon after the wartime collapse of Tulip. 

In nearby Fordyce, where we'd earlier encountered members of the "Christian Motorcycle Association" collecting money for an unspecified "charity" at the main traffic light, there's a steam locomotive and converted train depot, a little museum, some shops and a few traces of former residents Bear Bryant and Johnny Cash. Oddly, half of Dallas County now lives in Fordyce.

Today's Rune: Journey.      

Little Big Man

Arthur Penn's Little Big Man (1970), based on Thomas Berger's 1964 novel of the same title, delivers a memorably consciousness raising story of the American West as recounted by a 121-year old man played by Dustin Hoffman. It plays to the charisma of Chief Dan George, who is also a hoot in Clint Eastwood's The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976).

In making Little Big Man, Arthur Penn was creating fully within the spirit of the times -- compare this film with his equally impressive Bonnie and Clyde (1967). When Little Big Man came out, Marvin Gaye was nearly ready to release "What's Going On?," environmentally-minded people had celebrated the first Earth Day and members of the American Indian Movement (AIM, formed in 1968) had occupied the Mayflower II -- on Thanksgiving Day 1970, after painting Plymouth Rock red. The US-Vietnam War was another ongoing concern, and the grisly facts of the My Lai Massacre of 1968 were coming under closer global scrutiny. Little Big Man reflects these times well.  

Also floating around in the Zeitgeist of the 1960s were songs dealing with the Little Big Horn. Here are snippets from two of them:

Please Mr. Custer, I don't wanna go . . .

-- "Mr. Custer" -- Larry Vern,  #1 American hit single in 1960.

Now I will tell you buster that I ain't a fan of Custer
And the General he don't ride well anymore
To some he was a hero but to me his score was zero
And the General he don't ride well anymore . . .

-- "Custer" -- Johnny Cash (and Peter La Farge), Bitter Tears: Ballads of the American Indian (1964)

Today's Rune: Fertility.

The Man in Black Revisited

Here's another selection culled from the first five years of "Erik's Choice." This one was first posted on June 8, 2006:

Johnny Cash (2/26/1932-9/12/2003) was a man of faith, an American, a country and pop icon, a tortured but compassionate singer and songwriter. He sang songs -- partly originals, partly written by others -- that cover the range of human behavior and emotions. I’ve always thought that he was a close spiritual cousin to bluesman John Lee Hooker, coming from another world and yet essentially coming from the same world. And while I admire Johnny’s later work, the resurrection as it were, I can’t help but go back to the ones that grabbed me as a kid, songs like “Folsom Prison Blues,” “I Walk the Line,” “Ring of Fire,” and even “Hey Porter.” Not to mention a zillion others. My parents used to play Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison (1968) quite a bit, and I loved (and still love) every minute of it.

When I was in college, I read a lot of Albert Camus and Fyodor Dostoevsky, and have always wondered whether anyone else has drawn direct comparisons between a song like “Folsom Prison Blues” by the Man in Black and the short novel The Stranger (L'Etranger, 1942) by Camus or Crime and Punishment (1866) by Dostoevsky. It always seemed clear to me, anyway.

But I shot in man in Reno
Just to watch him die. . .

Some people find this chilling, but I find it merely honest – seriously, there but for the grace of God go I or any of us. I’ve certainly had fantasies of blowing away people I detest, and in the fantasies, at least, I’m more than happy to watch them die. Think of Ruth’s fantasies if you’re a Six Feet Under fan, taking out each of her exes, one at a time, with a happy little smile; or any other fantasy sequence like it. Johnny Cash never killed anyone, yet he could obviously understand and empathize with the impulse. So, too, Dostoevsky with the set up of Crime and Punishment, and with even closer alignment, Meursault’s killing of an Arab in Algeria also just to watch him die in Camus' The Stranger.

But I know I had it comin',
I know I can't be free,
But those people keep a-movin',
And that's what tortures me.

Meursault understands that through his exercise of freedom, he’s committed an act that is condemned by the laws of society, and thereby has lost his freedom. He only fully understands the idea of freedom when he is in prison, condemned to death.

In all truth, perhaps the only thing holding back mayhem is civil society, the existence of a legal system and prisons, and religious codes that proscribe killing, leading to haunting feelings of guilt and remorse for those who believe yet kill anyway.

Existentialists, of course, often wore black, as did nihilists, Beatniks, and punks. Johnny gave several reasons for his donning of the black, including that it made choosing outfits a lot simpler. I can go with any and all of his reasons. I also love black, as anyone who knows me well can attest. It may seem a bit funereal sometimes (like on a sunny afternoon), but so what? It’s a tragic world and we should always be thinking of the dead: let the dead bury the dead. Camus won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1957 while still in his forties, but died in a car accident three years later. Dostoevsky was lined up to be shot in a firing squad in Russia, then given a last-miniute reprieve. Imagine what that does to a person – talk about post-traumatic
stress. . .

If you haven’t picked it up by now, I’m a strong advocate for mixing up genres and art forms, blending, and thinking beyond categories and ratings that have been, when you think about, handed down to us by God knows who. The canon and all – better a loaded cannon than a load of canon. Which is one of the things I love about the internet – it’s a free for all!

p.s. The Cure’s “Killing an Arab” is a short single cover of The Stranger. And since everybody in our immediate Michigan blogland seems to adore Johnny Cash, too, I’ll put in an additional vote for “Cocaine Blues,” as well. Among a zillion others.

I hear that train a'comin' . . . . .

Today's Rune: Joy.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

Johnny Cash bemusedly looks at Dick Nixon and wonders . . . why am I here again?  

A lot of observations to make today, but instead I'll stand back in awe of Nature's way for now.  (Photo: US National Archives.)

Today's Rune: Movement.

Well gather 'round people and listen to this . . .

During the Great Depression, an aging Tennessee hermit decides to come to town and hold a living funeral for himself. Things proceed from there. That's the premise of Aaron Schneider's Get Low (2009), set for limited American release at the end of this month.

From the press kit:

For years, townsfolk have been terrified of the backwoods recluse known as Felix Bush (Robert Duvall). People say he‘s done all manner of unspeakable things -- that he‘s killed in cold blood; that he‘s in league with the Devil; that he has strange powers -- and they avoid him like the plague. Then, one day, Felix rides to town with a shotgun and a wad of cash, saying he wants to buy a funeral. It‘s not your usual funeral for the dead Felix wants. On the contrary, he wants a "living funeral," in which anyone who ever had heard a story about him will come to tell it, while he takes it all in. (For more, see http://www.sonyclassics.com/getlow/)

Add Sissy Spacek, Bill Murray, Lucas Black and others, actors who've turned in many a strong performance.  Will it work?  More will be revealed . . .

Reminds me of two things right off. First, "Play Guitar Play," one of Conway Twitty's best songs penned by the man himself, a number one Country and Western hit in 1977; and Iggy Pop's "The Ballad of Cookie McBride," from which today's header derives, orginally from  "Zombie Birdhouse" (1982).   Iggy's song is so bad it's become a real favorite -- that's how bad it is!  Where he got the idea, God knows. But it makes me chuckle every time. Jack London?  Sample lyric:

Well gather 'round people and listen to this
I am a hermit of burial ridge
Once I was shaven and worked every day
But the call of the wild just lured me away . . .

And onward, complete with "bears in the area and wolves at the door" . . .

This odd and darkling ditty may have inspired John Waters to cast Iggy as Belvedere Rickettes in Cry-Baby (1990) alongside Johnny Depp.  Who knows?

Today's Rune: Fertility.  

Phantom Brothers

Kerouac lost his brother Gérard, Johnny Cash his brother Jack, and Elvis his twin brother Jesse.  All three survivors were troubled, though Johnny probably dealt with his deck of existential cards best, in part because of June Carter and maybe luck -- certainly he lived the longest of these fraternal combinations.  A salute to them all, and happy birthday, Elvis Aaron Presley. 

Today's Rune: Signals.  

As Long as the Grass Shall Grow

Was thinking about Jim Thorpe and Ira Hayes the other day, and the 1964 Johnny Cash album, Bitter Tears: Ballads of the American Indian, including Johnny's version of Peter La Farge's "The Ballad of Ira Hayes." There's another haunting song on the album, co-written by JC and Johnny Horton, "The Vanishing Race." Even the song's title is eerie. Let's not forget an interesting take on the Little Big Horn called "Custer."

My father's been reading about the Comanche, who are now concentrated in Oklahoma and around the Southwest, and we've discussed some of their history, which has been enlightening.

During the Medicine Lodge Treaty negotiations in 1867, Comanche Chief Ten Bears, made these statements (published in 1910 by the US Government), which pretty much sum up the impact of mid-nineteenth century pressures on the Comanche:

[T]here are things which you have said which I do not like. They were not sweet like sugar but bitter like gourds. You said that you wanted to put us upon reservations, to build our houses and make us medicine lodges. I do not want them. I was born on the prairie where the wind blew free and there was nothing to break the light of the sun. I was born where there were no [e]nclosures and where everything drew a free breath. I want to die there and not within walls. I know every stream and every wood between the Rio Grande and the Arkansas. I have hunted and lived over the country. I lived like my fathers before me, and like them, I lived happily.

When I was at Washington the Great Father told me that all the Comanche land was ours and that no one should hinder us in living upon it. So, why do you ask us to leave the rivers and the sun and the wind and live in houses? Do not ask us to give up the buffalo for the sheep. . .

If the Texans had kept out of my country there might have been peace. But that which you now say we must live on is too small. The Texans have taken away the places where the grass grew the thickest and the timber was the best. Had we kept that we might have done the things you ask. But it is too late. The white man has the country which we loved, and we only wish to wander on the prairie until we die. . .

Today's Rune: Partnership.

Hotter Than a Pepper Sprout

You may know it from Johnny Cash and June Carter, either studio or live via At Folsom Prison (1968). Here's a 1967 version of the Leiber/Wheeler song, "Jackson" aka "I'm Goin' to Jackson," performed by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. Wives, don't forget your "Jaypan" [Japanese] fan . . .

Today's Rune: Movement.

1970: Radio Burnin' Up Above

I've kept only a handful of long-playing records from the 60s through 1970, mostly from my sisters' collections. Still have the Goldfinger soundtrack, some jazz and blues compilations, two original Doors albums and a 1970 anthology that includes Shocking Blue's "Venus." Can still picture these spinning on little portable record players, played loud. Nothing quite like it, even now with iTunes and all that jive.

AM radio was a major conduit for hearing an eclectic blend of things, anything from Johnny Cash to Led Zeppelin to anything Pop. Plus news. No Rush Limbaugh.

Today's Rune: Joy.

San Antonio de Béxar

Digging San Antonio. This is my fourth trip to the city, the first since 2005. The culture and history of San Antonio runs deep, with Spanish, Mexican, French, German and Anglo dimensions.

San Antonio is the seventh largest city in the entire USA, just behind Philadelphia and ahead of Dallas, Detroit, and so on. Its population is approximately 62% Hispanic or Latino.

San Antonio has always had a military function, from the Spanish presidio through the Alamo to the Confederacy; for most of its history, it's known a strong US military presence at command, intelligence, medical, air and troop level. Before the American Civil War, both Joseph E. Johnston and Robert E. Lee knew San Antonio well -- in the 1850s, it was one the most civilized places in all of Texas.


Overall, San Antonio is about as old as Detroit and New Orleans. Like them, it's an interesting and storied place, no question.

Last night, one of the highlights of the Fiesta San Antonio and NIOSA (A Night in Old San Antonio) event was coming across "Lonesome Louie," the bluesman. He's like a blend of Elmore James and Lightnin' Hopkins, with a pinch of Johnny Cash.

The food, crowds and margaritas are all good so far; including the Fiesta Flambeau and other parades, think Mardi Gras. In San Antonio, this tradition goes back to the late 1800s.

Today's Rune: Initiation.

Vanity Fair: On Motown and "Isn't She Deneuvely?"

Happened to catch Tavis Smiley and Berry Gordy, Jr., at some point not too long ago on the flat screen, talking about Motown. Gordy was a little miffed about Dreamgirls (2006) and its thinly veiled alternate take on Motown's history. Because (unlike, say Walk the Line regarding Johnny Cash and June Carter) Dreamgirls does not dare call Motown by its real name nor its stars by their real names, I've never bothered to see it. I can only report Gordy's dislike of its characterizations.

To Tavis Smiley, Mr. Gordy also mentioned what sounded like helpful and constructive articles about Motown that were featured in the December 2008 issue of Vanity Fair. I recently got around to reading those articles. Not only are they good, there's the added bonus of excellent photographs, several in full color. And they can be accessed online via the Vanity Fair archives at http://www.vf.com/.

Here's a direct link to one of two articles and a web special, "Motown, Then and Now." This one is for Lisa Robinson's "It Happened in Hitsville":

www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2008/12/motown200812

Smokey Robinson on Berry Gordy, Jr.: "He told me a song has got to be a short book, a small movie, or a short story. He taught me how to structure my songs." (p. 312 of VF 12/2008 print edition).

Thanks to Tavis Smiley and Berry Gordy, Jr., for their heads up to this issue of Vanity Fair. It also has a good bit on Kate Winslet, complete with racy shots of Ms. Winslet in Krista Smith's "Isn't She Deneuvely?" Think Catherine Deneuve, think Luis Buñuel's Belle de jour (1967), or hell, see for yourself:
www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2008/12/winslet200812

Today's Rune: Growth.

This Land

Folks, we're almost there . . . almost to the mountaintop . . .

Yesterday, I worked as a part of a two-man team canvassing in Detroit along Harper Avenue, from Operation Get Down, Inc. (a former YMCA) toward Harpos Concert Theatre (sometimes called Harpo's, opened in 1939), and found what looked to be 100% Obama support. Everybody we found planned to vote today or tomorrow. It's exciting!

Today, I find myself singing Woody Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land" (1940) and James Brown tunes, Johnny Cash and Billie Holiday. Hope ripples through the air. In this spirit, I'd like to thank Mark Krone for adding a new poem of his own in the comments section of the post a couple days back on Cornell West's Hope on a Tightrope.


Earlier this year, The Crow Nation adopted Barack Black Eagle. How cool is that? This Land is Their Land, too -- obviously.


Whatever it takes, let's make it happen!

Today's Rune: Warrior.

The Last War

Today's hurricane season is active, Kwame Kilpatrick is about to plea bargain his way out of office, and the Republican Party's Ship of Ghouls remains at anchor along the Mississippi in the Twin Cities. Labor Day is over and summer's almost gone. But on a jukebox today at lunchtime, I heard two Johnny Cash songs in a row and couldn't help but smile anyway.


Gustav is mostly rain now; Hanna -- presumably not named after Nazi pilot Hanna Reitsch (pictured here) -- may wade ashore in North Carolina on Saturday; Ike (looking as mean as Ike Turner) is turning nastier; and Josephine has yet to become an empress cyclone worthy of Napoleon I.

A fitting season for a crazy election cycle nearing its crescendo ending.

Today's Rune: Growth.

The Man in Black

If it was good enough for Johnny Cash, it's good enough for me. Here, the Man in Black looks in apparent amazement at whatever US President Richard Nixon has to say. If there's a transcript of this meeting, I'm gonna find it. Meanwhile, never trust a politican with his hand out in the air. . . . .

Seriously, this outfit favored by Johnny is essentiually what I wore today to school. If one has to wear a tie . . . . . A precocious student once called this "undertaker chic." So simple, so black and white. Did I mention that Spring Break is over?

Today's Rune: Harvest.

What You See Is What You Get

It was January, 1970, when we moved from St. Paul, Minnesota to Durham, North Carolina. Johnny Cash was always playing on the AM radio and later that year, when I was transferred to the newly integrated Walltown School just as the streets were being paved for the first time ever and I walked to school each day from a mostly white neighborhood, Flip Wilson helped break the ice. "The Devil made me do it," I'd say if confronted at the water fountain over some 5th grade matter. "What you see is what you get," I'd quote. Thank you for helping me adjust to the new situation on Tar Heel ground, Johnny and Flip, and happy birthday, Flip Wilson -- RIP. Ebony and ivory living in -- if not exactly harmony, at least in a ceasefire zone of mutual acquaintance.


Sean Connery and "Bond Girl" Kim Basinger, all of 54 today. Never say never, indeed.


9 1/2 Weeks. Yeah. Let's not forget her Detroit mother role in 8 Mile, either.


Jim Morrison (1943-1971), No One Here Gets Out Alive! He said it, man, not me.

Gregg Allman -- at 60, been married six or so times (including to Cher), he's outlived Duane (1946-1971) by a long shot. Laid back or plain crazy?

"Bond Girl" Teri Hatcher, 42. Well, from BG to desperate housewife, not looking too desperate here.

Vanessa Lorenzo. I know, I know -- her birthday was yesterday. What the hell, what the heck, another picture a day later. I swear: The Devil made me do it! What you see is what you get!

Today's Rune: Harvest.

Hasta la vista!

A World of Hurt

Joaquin Phoenix is only 33, the age Jesus was crucified and Alexander the Great died. Coming from a world of hurt, he looks older than his age and his acting roles seem to reflect this real life complexity. Much has been made of birth order recently, and the names parents give a kid must also play a heady role in their worldview. His unconventional parents were members of an offbeat religious group The Children of God (since renamed The Family of Love, The Family, and The Family International), one that had its members travel around the Americas. Joaquin is a middle child, between model-handsome River (1970-1993), sister Rain (b. Rainbow Joan of Arc Phoenix, 1972), and sisters Liberty (b. 1976), and Summer (1978). As a child, Joaquin named himself "Leaf." His parents eventually left The Children of God, and the children became actors. River, best known for his role in My Own Private Idaho (1991), died of a speedball overdose at the Hollywood Viper Club in 1993. Joaquin, who along with Rain was with him, made the 911 call. Over the years, after pensive retreat, Joaquin has emerged as a notable actor in his own right, though art continues to imitate life. Consider his roles as Johnny Cash in Walk the Line (2005) and as Bobby Green in We Own the Night (2006).

As a final note, The Children of God took an effective if weird approach to the idea of becoming "fishers of men." To attract new members and solidify existing membership, "Flirty fishing" used sex as a lure. Apparently, it worked. One more example of reality being stranger than fiction.


Here's model, actress, photographer Suzy Parker (1932-2003), a belle of the ball in the 1950s, in dramatic red. One of the highest paid women in the world in her time, she's supposed to have quipped: "It's easy to be beautiful - just be born that way." Married three times with four children, she also observed that marriage kills romance. Nonetheless, her third marriage (to Bradford Dillman) lasted forty years -- until her death.

Today's Rune: Flow.

Ciao!

What the World Needs Now

José Feliciano shocked many in Detroit and the rest of the USA when he performed a non-traditional version of "The Star-Spangled Banner" in 1968 at Tiger Stadium. I've heard it, and it's pretty good, actually -- just different. In its own way, as wild as the better known Jimi Hendrix adaptations. Feliciano also did a memorable variation on the Doors' "Light My Fire." Johnny Cash had him on his show in 1970 and sang with him, too. Still playing, it's his birthday -- and he's still younger than Bob Dylan and Lou Reed.


Rebellious Irish singer Siobhan Fahey, breakaway member of Bananarama and leader of Shakespeare's Sister, which for a time also featured Marcella Detroit (Levy, of Detroit).


Big Ben Wallace, as a Detroit Piston. He'll always be a Piston to me.

Today's Rune: Breakthrough.

Today's Birthdays: Maria Theresa, Fighting Joe Wheeler, Alice Brown Daivs, H.D. (Hilda Doolittle), Robert Wise (The Day the Earth Stood Still, 1951), Edmund O'Briend (D.O.A., 1950), Charles Kuralt (UNC-Chapel Hill), José Feliciano, Margaret Trudeau, Amy Irving, Kate Burton, Siobhan Fahey, Colin Firth, David Lowery (Camper Van Beethoven, Cracker), Big Daddy Kane (Antonio Hardy), Guy Ritchie, Big Ben Wallace.

Ciao Detroit!

Dirty Wars

Two developments today may not equal justice, but they are good reminders of the fragility of liberty and human rights. First, the rounding up of suspects in last year's contract murder of 48-year old Russian journalist Anna Politkovskaya; second, the resignation of US Attorney General Alberto Gonzales.

Politkovskaya had investigated the conduct of Russian government policies in Chechnya and elsewhere, and she was often critical of Russian President Vladimir Putin's abuse of power. Today it appears that the Putin administration is perpetuating an internal coverup, trying to pass blame on to "outsiders."

In the USA, Gonzales served as a hatchet man for the Bush-Cheney administration, undermining American civil rights under the guise of fighting international terrorists. If "patriotism is the last refuge of scoundrels," the Patriot Acts are about as heinous as the Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798. It seems that many "security measures" are skewed for political ends and -- as with much airport and border security -- largely theatrical.

The resignation of Gonzales is a minor victory for democracy; the latest in the Politkovskaya case is more a charade and a red herring.


Barbara Bach as "Bond Girl." "That's Detente, comrades . . ."


Tuesday Weld, from Peyton Place to I Walk the Line (1970), a twisted little tale set to Johnny Cash.

Today's Rune: Fertility.

Birthdays: Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Hannibal Hamlin, Theodore Dreiser, Katharine Dexter McCormick, Charles Rolls, Faina Ranevskaya, Lyndon Baines Johnson, Lester Young, Ira Levin, Antonia Fraser, Alice Coltrane (b. Alice McLeod, Detroit), Tuesday Weld, Barbara Bach, Paul Pee-wee Herman Reubens (b. Rubenfeld), Diana Scarwid, Sarah Chalke.

St. Valentine's Day Massacre

I recently came across an article about love typologies studied by Susan and Clyde Hendrick. They're both Ph.Ds., so what they say must be true!

It's mostly common sense. They claim there are six basic types of significant others: the romantic, the list-maker, the obsessive, the giver, the player and the pal. Fair enough. Certainly I can think of examples of each, though more likely they are people (including me) who blend two or more types.

After more than twenty-five years of serious dating, marriage, and observation of other social combinations, I offer some of my own thoughts and a little from Søren Kierkegaard (5/5/1813-11/11/1855), the Danish existentialist philosopher.

Kierkegaard: "He has comprehended the deep secret that also in loving another person one must be sufficient unto oneself." Ideally, each person in a love relationship must be semi-autonomous, so as to avoid excessive neediness. Interdependence with a streak of independence works fine, but expecting another person to be the panacea or cure-all to her or his own issues is the height of folly.

Kierkegaard: "Spiritually speaking, everything is possible, but in the world of the finite there is much which is not possible."

In most relationships, during the first 0-20 or so years, no one is irreplaceable, regardless if there are marriages or kids involved. If you would "die" without the other person, you have serious psychological and emotional problems or are simply deluded, immature, or have an Emotional Intelligence Quotient of a small child. If you make twenty or twenty-five years and things are still cooking, you may be lucky enough to have the kind of truly irreplaceable relationship exemplified by June Carter and Johnny Cash. The only drawback being that both may die within two years of each other (perhaps a blessing).

A good relationship requires give and take, best lubricated with a sense of humor and not putting one's ego on the line with every twist and turn. Patience, kindness, courage and resilience help.

Attention must be paid to details: cleanliness is next to Godliness, and don't forget fun shared activities, spiced up with some variation. Don't be too predictable, but don't be unreliable, either. Don't be lazy, but don't become so stressed you routinely collapse, either.

Communication: protect your boundaries, honor the other person's boundaries. Do not be afraid of conflict, but don't fight too much, either. A little conflict derails any buildup of resentment; too much conflict is destructive. Never treat another person as an occupied territory or house slave, and don't let anyone treat you that way, either.

Overlapping interests and tastes are important. There must be some, but there should be some variation between the two. I don't expect complete agreement on musical likes, for example, but there's got to be some. I don't expect everybody to like Bob Dylan or Iggy Pop, but when an ex- revealed a loathing also for John Coltrane, Prince, James Brown, and Janis Joplin, her revelations had a corrossive quality. Her days were numbered. Over the long run, what would be the point?

Overlapping spiritual interests. If you are an atheist, you may want to think twice about hooking up with a devout Catholic, Muslim, or Jewish person, and vice versa. Agnostics and Deists are more pliable.

Don't expect to be "the One" who can change a person's behavior or outlook -- unless he or she can change it up front. If you succeed through brow-beating, you will probably be resented. Remember: No good deed goes unpunished. Early patterns usually end up being permanent ones, so tread carefully. Days become weeks, week become months, months become years.

Do not nag, do not impose honey-do lists without mutual enthusiasm, do not control, and do not take yourself or the other person for granted but also don't let your counterpart get away with such behavior, either.

Have fun and be nice in sickness and in health. Be prepared for one nutty ride, no matter what. Make sure you know who you are and take stock from time to time -- which is why breathing room is important. No one likes to be smothered or neglected except crazy people.

French Rule: ideally, neither partner should fall outside the "half one's age plus seven years" formula. With rare exceptions, there will otherwise be trouble. No one wants to end up like Anna Nicole Smith, I'm guessing; no one wants to bored to death, either.

If anyone has any other ideas about what makes a good relationship, please leave a comment. I'm always interested in people's opinions and observations.

Today's Rune: Harvest.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Your Memory Is Almost Full

"Stan Ridgway [b. 1954] is equal parts Raymond Chandler and John Huston, Johnny Cash and Rod Serling" -- New Musical Express.

Ridgway writes what is essentially flash fiction melded with music and poetry. Interesting guy, certainly, with a dark vision of the American Dream, represented by Wall of Voodoo's "Call of the West" (1982). Ridgway was also the lead singer for the group and has continued to make interesting art right up to the present, as far as I can tell.

Given that Mr. Bush reserves the right to read our postal mail, our email, our blogs, and our instant messages and websites, that he gives himself to right to listen in on -- and make transcripts of -- our phone calls and conversations without a search warrant or probable cause, maybe he'll become literate after all. If so, I hope he enjoys Stan Ridgway's little tale of modern America:

Call of the West (excerpt):

He heard the click of a rifle bolt and found
Himself peering down the muzzle of a weapon
Held by a drunken liquor store owner.
"There's a conflict," he said.
"There's a conflict between land and people . . .
The people have to go.
They've come all the way out here to make mining
claims, to do automobile body work, to gamble.
To take pictures, to not have to do laundry, to
Own a mini-bike, to have their own CB radios and
Air conditioning, good plumbing for sure, and to
Sell Time-Life books and to work in a deli, to
Have some chili every morning and maybe . . . maybe
To own their own gas stations again and to take
Drugs and have some crazy sex, but above all,
Above all to have a fair shake, to get a piece of the
Rock and a slice of the pie and to spit out
The window of your car and not have the wind blow
it back in your face."

Now from the high timber line to the deserts dry
Who'll risk dangling on some hangman's tree
To stake their claims on these prairie plains
While they say this lunch is not had for free?
Just like the spokes of a wheel
Who'll spin 'round with the rest?
They'll hear the drums and the brush of steel
And I'll hear the call of the West
Call of the West!

Today's Rune: Defense.

Yippie-Aye-Eh!