It is the only appropriate opening for today. There are few entertainers who can take a song already widely in circulation and put their indelible stamp on it. Sinatra did it with "New York New York" which was released by Liza Minnelli in 1977 before Blue Eyes drove it to the top in 1979. Here is the great version by Bennett and Sinatra.
How Great Thou Art has, of course, been around much longer. It has been a staple in the diet of American evangelical Christianity since it was first penned. It origins date back to the 19th century.
George Beverly Shea made it famous in the Billy Graham meetings as millions converted to Christ in the 50s and 60s – not the least one Harry Roger Web, better known as Cliff Richard. Elvis sang it, but I am fairly sure that Sinatra did not.
But it was Howard Morrison who really put his stamp on it, especially with the addition of Maori Lyrics. In the olden days, there was, and perhaps still is, that slippery genre called “Easy Listening”. It was under that sign on the shelf, you were likely to find the likes of Sinatra and Howard Morrison.
Howard Morrison was the epitome of easy listening. Like Sinatra, he could take a song and infiltrate with his unique emotional energy. Like Sinatra, he could have the audience in the palm of his hand. Like Sinatra, he had that thing that makes all the difference on stage – Charisma.
It is therefore quite appropriate that in 2002 Morrison released and album called “Old Brown Eyes”.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Though the way be long, let your heart beat strong …
Usain Bolt has to run hard for 9 and a half seconds or in the case of 200 metres, just over 19 seconds. Haile Gebrselassie has to lay it on the line for 2hours and 5 minutes. Who is the greater athlete?
Well, as I have said before, the question ought not be asked. But we sadly have to start choosing. I think they offer a fitting contrast; of youth with maturity, of speed with endurance.
Usain is a new boy on the block; Haile has been around forever it seems and has a string of titles, gold medals and world records that leave the everyday athlete (like yours truly) gobsmacked.
Gebrselassie won the Berlin marathon, yet again. It was the current world record-holder’s fourth straight win.
A little known movie called “endurance” was put out about his life. I have it on video. To see the guy’s background in basic poverty makes you admire him all the more. However, the movie itself was somewhat tedious and disneyish. Hopefully, something much more worthy of the great man will yet be produced.
I have only run two marathons. I am glad I did. I have no intention of running any more. The half marathon is quite sufficient thanks. Everyone who can should give it a go once. When you hit the wall with 6 km to go, you learn stuff about yourself, you could never learn otherwise.
I wonder if Usain Bolt will ever run a marathon. I hear Gerbrselassie has runs loads of 100 and 200 meters.
Well, as I have said before, the question ought not be asked. But we sadly have to start choosing. I think they offer a fitting contrast; of youth with maturity, of speed with endurance.
Usain is a new boy on the block; Haile has been around forever it seems and has a string of titles, gold medals and world records that leave the everyday athlete (like yours truly) gobsmacked.
Gebrselassie won the Berlin marathon, yet again. It was the current world record-holder’s fourth straight win.
A little known movie called “endurance” was put out about his life. I have it on video. To see the guy’s background in basic poverty makes you admire him all the more. However, the movie itself was somewhat tedious and disneyish. Hopefully, something much more worthy of the great man will yet be produced.
I have only run two marathons. I am glad I did. I have no intention of running any more. The half marathon is quite sufficient thanks. Everyone who can should give it a go once. When you hit the wall with 6 km to go, you learn stuff about yourself, you could never learn otherwise.
I wonder if Usain Bolt will ever run a marathon. I hear Gerbrselassie has runs loads of 100 and 200 meters.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Oh my friend we’re older but no wiser, for in our hearts the dreams are still the same …
I first joined Calliope at the age of 14 in 1964. I rejoined in 2005 to confront my some 85 kgs and a seriously flabby midriff. So I have had an association with the club spanning 45 years.
They show some changes (spot the difference).
The change from colour to black and white.
The change from New Balance to Puma.
The change in uniform
And as Cole Porter would say “how strange the change from major to minor”
I am about 4 kg heavier than I was then, but oh so much slower.
The photos you see span something of those years: in this case 1972 to 2005.
They show some changes (spot the difference).
The change from colour to black and white.
The change from New Balance to Puma.
The change in uniform
And as Cole Porter would say “how strange the change from major to minor”
I am about 4 kg heavier than I was then, but oh so much slower.
Oh and this Cole Porter is for Chris from a favourite of yours!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Words are all she had to steal our hearts away ….
She had what could only be described as a pseudo-American accent – the sort a Kiwi might fain after spending a month or two States-side.
She sat at the back of the bus with her friend, leg draped over the seat in front. She made sure that the entire bus was completely privy to her side of the very one-sided conversation. In between coughing fits, we learned of her boyfriend, relationship hassles, and the dog that ate snail-bait.
Her lines were peppered with that word that signifies a youthful conversation – “like”; It was like …. He was like, and I was like almost like ready like to like laugh.
She bore on like a drill; coughing and “liking”. The rest of the bus settled down to one of those trips home assaulted by trivia and banality. Was it deliberate or was she slightly deaf? Was it a subconscious longing to be heard? And a bus is a captive audience.
Her interlocutor got the occasional word in and she seem to understand the social conventions of appropriate- loudness -when - conversing- on- a-bus.
She got off before my stop, and the bus recovered a sense of serenity. I could feel it smile.
She sat at the back of the bus with her friend, leg draped over the seat in front. She made sure that the entire bus was completely privy to her side of the very one-sided conversation. In between coughing fits, we learned of her boyfriend, relationship hassles, and the dog that ate snail-bait.
Her lines were peppered with that word that signifies a youthful conversation – “like”; It was like …. He was like, and I was like almost like ready like to like laugh.
She bore on like a drill; coughing and “liking”. The rest of the bus settled down to one of those trips home assaulted by trivia and banality. Was it deliberate or was she slightly deaf? Was it a subconscious longing to be heard? And a bus is a captive audience.
Her interlocutor got the occasional word in and she seem to understand the social conventions of appropriate- loudness -when - conversing- on- a-bus.
She got off before my stop, and the bus recovered a sense of serenity. I could feel it smile.
Monday, September 14, 2009
From the redwood forest to the gulf steam waters …
The great Nu Zulun sporting event this last weekend was not the Tri Nations. It was, contrary to some popular opinion, the Red Stag relay run through the redolent redwood trees in Rotorua.
It was a day that drizzled off and on.
The course was, in spite of this, reasonable firm underfoot. It was flat for the first almost 3 km. Then the runner (or walker) was confronted by a demanding hill, which went on forever it seemed. The final section held some treachery with tree roots lying in waiting to twist unstable ankles. My performance was solid, but not up to my recent best.
Estimated times had to be put in before the event. This the club handicapper did. And hats off to the handicapper for his accuracy.
Every running or walking club has a handicapper. It is a thankless task. The handicapper is invariably subject to the scorns and arrows of those who feel hard done by. “I can’t run that fast … why have I been given such a hard handicap?”
This was a day in which the handicapper was vindicated and all moaning mouths put to silence.
It was my birthday on the Sunday. Rumour has it that I was still up at the midnight hour on Saturday enjoying the delights of Rotorua.
It was a day that drizzled off and on.
The course was, in spite of this, reasonable firm underfoot. It was flat for the first almost 3 km. Then the runner (or walker) was confronted by a demanding hill, which went on forever it seemed. The final section held some treachery with tree roots lying in waiting to twist unstable ankles. My performance was solid, but not up to my recent best.
Estimated times had to be put in before the event. This the club handicapper did. And hats off to the handicapper for his accuracy.
Every running or walking club has a handicapper. It is a thankless task. The handicapper is invariably subject to the scorns and arrows of those who feel hard done by. “I can’t run that fast … why have I been given such a hard handicap?”
This was a day in which the handicapper was vindicated and all moaning mouths put to silence.
It was my birthday on the Sunday. Rumour has it that I was still up at the midnight hour on Saturday enjoying the delights of Rotorua.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Another opening of another show …
It is relay season in old Nu Zulun for runners and walkers. This weekend’s show is the Red Stag Relay in Rotorua. It is billed as an event “through the towering redwoods”.
As I gaze out of my window, the drizzle is palpable in Auckland town and I suspect these will be the conditions to greet us among those towering redwoods.
When I say us, I mean the 30 or so semi-distinguished Calliope athletes who will compete in the relay of 5 km laps.
In some cases, the athletes in question are probably more semi-extinguished. Many bear the scars of years of competition.
Indeed, there are two Calliopians who are featured in this photo above (from the very early seventies). We two, who will be competing in tomorrow's Red Stag some 40 years on are: yours truly and the towering figure of Bill Fell.
~~
I say 'towering' because Bill Fell has come to be known as Mr Calliope'. The title reflects Bill's incredible service to the club for forty years.
~~
The Red Stag event is perhaps one of the softer options on the season's relay menu. It's gentle, undulating, almost soporific 5 km laps hardly compare with the demanding, body numbing, hilly 10 km laps that other relays offer. Hence, I avoid such events.
~~
~~
The Red Stag is a far more reasonable humanizing event, with the relay a seeming short interlude among the thrills and epicurean delights on offer on a spring weekend in Rotorua.
Friday, September 4, 2009
I may be right, I may be wrong, but I’m perfectly willing to swear …
The Bible is a fascinating book. I have read it.
It contains some of the most sublime utterances and also some of the most patently inhuman. It is believed by many to be literally, word for word, the WORD of God. So, it is strange that it has spawned so many versions of Christianity. Associated with these versions are over 38,000 different denominations and a vast range of interpretations.
It is believed by many, as I say, to be the plain word of God, yet it is the most annotated book in the world. Indeed, commentaries that have been written on the Bible are innumerable.
Perhaps the saddest thing is the literalism that many impose upon the text. This unbridled literalism has in turn spawned a phenomenon called “Creation Science”. However, creation science (whatever you may think of it) fails the one key test of what science is about – the possibility of falsifiability. The point that Karl Popper made so well. True science rests on empricism not authoritarianism. The true spirit of science is to try and prove the hypothesis wrong! This is the thing a so-called "creation scientist" is utterly loathe to do.
I find the first few chapters of Genesis captivating and extremely enlightening on the human condition – all the more so, because I do not take them literally. Most fascinating is the stuff about the tree of the knowledge of “good and evil”. It wasn’t an apple that Eve ate by the way. Nowhere does it mention apple. In Hebrew, apparently, it was also known as the tree of conscience.
Read it sometime. To me, it marks a shift from an undifferentiated unity to a dualism – from a unity to an alienation. It marks a movement from the divine towards the human.
Of course the greatest character of the Bible is the man from Narareth - Yeshua or Jesus - the one in whom the divine and the human are once again unified.
.... that as you turned and smiled at me, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
September … the golden warm September of our years
It is a quintessential spring morning here in Auckland town, Nu Zulun. A cloudless sky reigns above a hazy lazy Waitemata harbour.
While September signals spring in the antipodes, it bespeaks fall in the northern climes, “when the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame”.
September in the songs is the month that speaks to the drawing on of the latter days of a life-time. It our neck of the world we would have to sing about March I guess, which doesn't have the same ring to it!
The two songs I know well are the September of my years and September song. Here’s a version by Jimmy Durante. That man with the nose! And here is the classic version by Sinatra in the midst of his capitol years.
For us down here, September is the month of the spring equinox. This year it occurs on September 22 nd at 21:18 Greenwich. Once again, the daylight grows longer and the hours of darkness dwindle.
September is my favourite month; after all it is my birthday month – like so many others whose parents had time on their hands the previous Christmas season.
For running addicts like me, it means no more running in the dark. It means hot sweaty runs. It means running through the bush tracks and along golden beaches.
So you see I do believe in climate change! As to what causes it short term and long term – I am absolutely certain – it is our relationship to that big ball of nuclear fire in the centre of our solar system.
While September signals spring in the antipodes, it bespeaks fall in the northern climes, “when the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame”.
September in the songs is the month that speaks to the drawing on of the latter days of a life-time. It our neck of the world we would have to sing about March I guess, which doesn't have the same ring to it!
The two songs I know well are the September of my years and September song. Here’s a version by Jimmy Durante. That man with the nose! And here is the classic version by Sinatra in the midst of his capitol years.
For us down here, September is the month of the spring equinox. This year it occurs on September 22 nd at 21:18 Greenwich. Once again, the daylight grows longer and the hours of darkness dwindle.
September is my favourite month; after all it is my birthday month – like so many others whose parents had time on their hands the previous Christmas season.
For running addicts like me, it means no more running in the dark. It means hot sweaty runs. It means running through the bush tracks and along golden beaches.
So you see I do believe in climate change! As to what causes it short term and long term – I am absolutely certain – it is our relationship to that big ball of nuclear fire in the centre of our solar system.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Around the world I searched for you …
Sailing single-handed around the world is not, quite Frankly, in my top 1000 list of the things to do.
I like challenges, but endless months of seasickness is not one of them. Grabbing the headlines last week was this interminable story of some 13 year Dutch girl (NZ Citizen – born in Nu Zulun waters – don’t you know!) who was being stymied by the Dutch authorities from doing the round-the-world thing.
Some 17 year Brit has just done it.
My congratulations to the Dutch authorities. How young is old enough? or is that How old is young enough?
Well, young Laura Dekker may yet still get the chance. Trouble is, all of the wrong people are sailing around the world. Another totally rivetting news item was that Winston Peters wants to emerge – yes – rise again from the political graveyard. Oh golly gosh, I wish he would sail around the world.
Now for the really important news! I was in the winning team for the annual Calliope Kohn cup relay. The Kohn cup is a semi-world-famous trophy that’s been in existence for many years
The event involves a lap from Birkenhead to Beach Haven and then a lap back by a slightly different route.
Anyhooo, our team triumphed. But unfortunately, our first member was not registered with the club. So alas, we have forfeited the glamorous trophy to the second team across the line.
I leave you with a shot of me in another relay many years ago, when I were young and faster.
I like challenges, but endless months of seasickness is not one of them. Grabbing the headlines last week was this interminable story of some 13 year Dutch girl (NZ Citizen – born in Nu Zulun waters – don’t you know!) who was being stymied by the Dutch authorities from doing the round-the-world thing.
Some 17 year Brit has just done it.
My congratulations to the Dutch authorities. How young is old enough? or is that How old is young enough?
Well, young Laura Dekker may yet still get the chance. Trouble is, all of the wrong people are sailing around the world. Another totally rivetting news item was that Winston Peters wants to emerge – yes – rise again from the political graveyard. Oh golly gosh, I wish he would sail around the world.
Now for the really important news! I was in the winning team for the annual Calliope Kohn cup relay. The Kohn cup is a semi-world-famous trophy that’s been in existence for many years
The event involves a lap from Birkenhead to Beach Haven and then a lap back by a slightly different route.
Anyhooo, our team triumphed. But unfortunately, our first member was not registered with the club. So alas, we have forfeited the glamorous trophy to the second team across the line.
I leave you with a shot of me in another relay many years ago, when I were young and faster.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Let's take it nice and easy ...
Start like you mean to finish.
I competed in the Auckland road race-walking championship yesterday at Ngataringa Bay in Devonport and won the masters section (40 years and over). Nevertheless, it was still a sorry display of race walking on my part.
I committed the cardinal sin for race-walkers - going out too fast in the early stages. By the 2km point in this 10 km event I was quietly blowing up. For the final 7 km, I simply suffered and hung on.
Of course, I should know better. All my best performances have involved what is called negative splits. This is simply were you complete the second half of the race faster than the first half.
A number of things happen when you go out too fast. Firstly, you suffer all the way. Secondly, you invariably end up with much sorer muscles the next day. Thirdly, you perform well below you ability.
It was a properly judged event. Four judges were around the course looking for the two problems that bring about disqualification: 1. Bending of the knee and 2. Lifting. At the midpoint of a stride when the body is directly above the leg, the leg must be straight. Indeed, with many race walkers the knee is in fact more than straight. It is hyper-extended.
The test of the straight leg is that the muscles in the upper thigh look completely relaxed as the picture shows. Here is an article those who wish to read further.
Whereas in the picture below, the knee is clearly bent and the upper thigh is not relaxed.
I competed in the Auckland road race-walking championship yesterday at Ngataringa Bay in Devonport and won the masters section (40 years and over). Nevertheless, it was still a sorry display of race walking on my part.
I committed the cardinal sin for race-walkers - going out too fast in the early stages. By the 2km point in this 10 km event I was quietly blowing up. For the final 7 km, I simply suffered and hung on.
Of course, I should know better. All my best performances have involved what is called negative splits. This is simply were you complete the second half of the race faster than the first half.
A number of things happen when you go out too fast. Firstly, you suffer all the way. Secondly, you invariably end up with much sorer muscles the next day. Thirdly, you perform well below you ability.
It was a properly judged event. Four judges were around the course looking for the two problems that bring about disqualification: 1. Bending of the knee and 2. Lifting. At the midpoint of a stride when the body is directly above the leg, the leg must be straight. Indeed, with many race walkers the knee is in fact more than straight. It is hyper-extended.
The test of the straight leg is that the muscles in the upper thigh look completely relaxed as the picture shows. Here is an article those who wish to read further.
Whereas in the picture below, the knee is clearly bent and the upper thigh is not relaxed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)