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Archive for October, 2009

These two articles from the NYTimes have made me giggle. Not only does Yankee Stadium offer Cheesesteaks but that is probably what Cliff Lee and C.C. Sabathia ate for dinner so many months ago. Game 1 was incredible so we shall see how da Phils do in Game 2.

Two gastroenterologists discuss the finer points of mayonaisse and its’ relation to the Cheesesteak and the anti-aesthetic of said sammy:

http://dinersjournal.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/on-the-question-of-cheese-steaks/?hp

 

Oh and did you know there was a concession stand that sold Cheesesteaks in New Yankee Stadium?:)

http://bats.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/a-cheese-steak/

 

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I read in the New York Times online edition that there was a rent party for Mr. James P. Johnson at a small club in the West Village. This was to provide his grave with a headstone. I think this was a noble idea and I hope they have succeeded in raising enough money to get one. I first started listening to James P. in college and haven’t gotten sick of him yet. One of his best compostitions, in my opinion, is Sugar. A litghthearted tune that almost anyone can be fond of. If you have never heard of James P. Johnson please give him a listen.  Here is a link to the article: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/06/arts/music/06rent.html?_r=1&ref=arts

And here is a picture of Mr. Johnson himself:

jamespjohnson

Here is a link to Eccentricity by Mr. Johnson: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouanJDVnVFY

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An Ode

The Spacious Firmament on high,

with all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,

Their great Original proclaim.

The unwearied sun from day to day

Does his Creator’s power display,

And publishes to every land

The work of an almighty Hand.

 

Soon as the evening shades prevail,

The moon takes up the wondrous tale,

And nightly, to the listening earth,

Repeats the story of her birth;

Whilst all the stars that round her burn,

And all the planets in their turn,

Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

 

What though in solemn silence all

Move round the dark terrestrial ball?

What though nor real voice nor sound

Amid their radiant orbs be found?

In reason’s ear they all rejoice,

And utter forth a glorious voice,

Forever singing as they shine,

“The Hand that made us is divine!”

 

Joseph Addison

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