March 28, 2011
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Million Seller

If you believe the blub under this video on YouTube, this version of Wreck of the Old ’97 by Vernon Dalhart, was the first million selling record in the United States. The Old 97, officially known as the Fast Mail, derailed at Stillhouse Trestle near Danville Virginia on September 27, 1903. The Engineer, Steve Broady, was just 33. He was trying to make up time. See, the Fast Mail had a reputation to live up to. It was never late.

There is some controversy about who wrote the tune. Dalhart’s version from 1924 was not the first recording of the tune, but likely the first recording with the lyrics as we know them today.

Well they gave him his orders at Monroe Virginia

sayin’ Steve you’re way behind time
This is not 38 this is old 97
you must put her into Spencer on time

Then he turned around and said to his black greasy fireman
shovel on a little more coal
And when we cross that White Oak Mountain
watch old 97 roll

But it’s a mighty rough road from Lynchburg to Danville
With a line on a three mile grade
It was on that grade that he lost his air brakes
see what a jump he made

He was goin’ down the grade makin’ 90 miles an hour
his whistle broke into a scream
He was found in the wreck with his hand on the throttle
A scalded to death by the steam

Then the telegram come to Washington station
and this is how it read
Oh that brave engineer that run old 97
he’s a layin’ in old Danville dead

So now all you ladies you better take a warnin’
from this time on and learn
Never speak harsh words to your true lovin’ husband
He may leave you and never return

This happens to be my favourite train wreck song. In fact, it’s one of my very favourite train songs period. These days, people don’t write so many train songs. Even the car song is becoming a lost art. Since Mr. Dalhart’s recording, this song has been recorded by just about everybody.

March 25, 2011
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Scoundrels

Who would cheat at chess?

Three leading French chess players have been found guilty of cheating in last year’s world championship, using a mobile phone messaging system. The article is from the Vancouver Sun. This is even worse than those scaliwags who cheat at sports by taking stearoids. Is winning really that important? I guess part of the problem is that there are computer programs that play chess very very well.

I haven’t played a game of chess in years. I much prefer the game of Go. So far, I believe Go programs don’t play at expert levels. I don’t know how actively programers are working on this problem.  This from the article I linked to:

...probably because of their use of patterns, go programs often play good shape without understanding the meaning of the moves. This is basically syntax without semantics; and it results in programs that make huge blunders that seem quite at odds with their overall level of play.

My guess is that it won’t be possible to “patch over” these blunders; in my estimation they reflect a fundamental shortcoming of existing programs. Specifically, I think that no program will reach the “true” 1-dan level without a creditable life & death analysis module. Of course, programmers will develop these, eventually, but I’m inclined to classify this as a major hurdle rather than something that can be overcome by incremental improvements (though I don’t want to make too much of the semantics).

Here’s another article for reference. Aside from being a game better suited to humans than machines, I think Go is also plenty more interesting. Many years ago, my friend Vox and I played chess, and then chess and Go and finally, we abandoned chess and devoted our playing time to Go. That was back in the 80s and we’ve been battling it out over the board regularly since then, having played thousands of games. Eventually, we might even get good at it.  If Vox is available this evening, my plan is to kick his sorry butt. The only problem of course is that he has similar plans, and he’s a sly fox, that Vox, with plenty of tough moves up his sleeve.

March 24, 2011
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Gentle on my Mind

I love this old John Hartford song. It’s been recorded something like 300 times. Some of those versions are very good. Unfortunately, quite a few performers really did a butcher job on it

My favourite? Here’s Johnny Cash doing a very melencholy version with Glen Campbell singing backup.

March 23, 2011
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Continuing to read Charles Portis

This week I read Norwood, the first novel by Charles Portis. It was made into a film in 1970 starring Glen Campbell and Kim Darby. I haven’t seen the film. The novel, like Dog of the South, which I wrote about last week, is a quest story. Norwood Pratt is discharged from the Marines to look after his sister. He wants to be a country singer (although he doesn’t spend much time playing music) and he’s concerned about a $70 debt owed him by a Marine buddy. Norwood seems to be a good natured fellow, somewhat naiive, with his own sense of what’s right and wrong.

Norwood meets Grady Fring The Kredit King and agrees to deliver a pair of cars (likely stolen) and a woman named Yvonne to New York. Bad things happen and he winds up hopping a freight, getting his boots stolen, meeting the world’s smallest perfect fat man, and subsequently meeting a woman named Rita Lee on a bus. They decide to get married. The book isn’t written quite as minimally as this, but it’s written in a very minimal, very concise style.

Norwood lives in the moment. He sets off with a vague notion of what he wants to do and deals with life as it comes along. Stuff just happens, little adventures, life in America, and Norwood moves along from one adventure to another. I found this novel to be starker than Dog of the South, and in that way somewhat disarming. Norwood likes home, but isn’t so happy about the guy his sister takes up with, and he seems perfectly fine about picking up and traveling. He’s a simple, restless guy from Arkansas who goes off to New York to retrieve a $70 debt. The characters he meets along the way are unique and each have their own stories.

I’m going to read the rest of Portis’ novels in the coming weeks. I’ll pass on the movie version of Norwood for now, though.

 

 

March 23, 2011
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I’ll see your guava and raise you a chayote….

I was in my local grocery store yesterday shopping for a bunch of fresh veggies. My plan was to cook them all up with some garlic, hot chiles and black bean sauce. Cruising through the aisles, I came across a big display of chayote squash. I’ve never eaten them before but the sign promised me that they are delicious. OK, I’m game. I added one to my cart.

A few minutes later at the checkout, the cashier gives me the look that can only mean, “What the heck are you doing buying obscure stuff I can’t identify, buddy?” Being helpful, I said, “I think it’s a chayote squash.” I spelled it for her. She looks it up in her computer and it isn’t there. I said, “I see, you folks have a huge display of chayote but clearly you have no intention of actually selling any of it.” I get a cold stare back. The guy behind me in line decides to be helpful. “I used to be in the produce business. That’s no chayote. It’s a guava.” I said, “um, they had a whole display over in the veggie section, identifying these as chayotes. They even had cooking instructions.”  “No, no,  believe me when I say it’s a guava. It’s been 10 years since I was in the business but I know my fruits and vegetables.” Meanwhile, the cashier, ignoring me, has looked up guava in the computer. It’s there. She announces, “Guava is in the computer. This must be a guava.” I know I’m beat, but I protest. “It’s a chayote. You have a whole chayote display happening in the produce section.” “It’s a guava.” “OK, it’s a guava.” At this point, she could call it anything. The line isn’t moving. I was on my way home from work and just want to get out of there.

Let me tell you that it was a chayote, and definitely not a guava. It was pretty good. I chopped it up with the other veggies and added it late in the cooking process so it would retain a crisp texture. I’d characterize it as a mild veggie with a nice texture, and a pleasant addition to my black bean dish.