A nexus of people, places & time

 

So, here we have it: My Colt Lightning Model 1877, this one made and sent to Saint Paul, Minnesota, on June 28, 1888, and returned to Saint Paul a few days ago from New Mexico after an absence of one hundred twenty-seven years. A few other thoughts: (1) June 28 also is the date I was "shipped" to Saint Paul. That happened in 2011. So, today is my fourth anniversary of being here. I did not think it would be for so long .... but, there are, at times, detours along our roadways. (2) This was to be a two or three part post. Part 2 is a bit long; it is not well written and, in fact, it often is meandering and obscure, but I do not feel like trying to rewrite it and I hope you read it despite its flaws. There will be a Part 3, but it will be a few weeks or longer before I get to it. (3) For music, I decided why not another song from The Three Degrees? Yes, why not. We have here, "MacArthur Park." I sort of prefer the Glen Campbell rendition of this piece because I saw him perform it once and because he enunciates the lyrics perfectly, but it is much more fun watching The Three Degrees do it.

"A fear of weapons is a sign of retarded sexual and emotional maturity." ---- Sigmund Freud

 "A man's rights rest in three boxes: the ballot box, the jury box, and the cartridge box." ---- Frederick Douglass

Here comes Lightning ....

Part 2 of 2 or 3

This Colt Lightning Model 1877 revolver is mine now. I sort of stumbled across it for sale in New Mexico and have brought it home to Minnesota. It is in remarkably good condition for its age. To review the beginning of its journey, this then-new revolver was shipped from the Colt factory in Hartford, Connecticut, to the William R. Burkhard Sportsman's Headquarters at 23 East Third Street in Saint Paul, Minnesota, on June 28, 1888. From there, it was sold to an unknown person.
 
So, where has it been, what has it done, who has held it during its more than a century and a quarter absence from its original "home" in Saint Paul? I would give a few years of my life to know the answers to those questions. In a few days, I will shoot it. I will wonder how many hands have held it and pulled the trigger over the years. I will wonder what or who it may have been aimed at when it was fired.

It probably would be literally impossible to track the Lightning after it was sold from the Sportsman's Headquarters. Records from that business might exist with a historical society or in a Burkhard descendant's attic, but, probably not. And, not until 1968 were merchants required to have sales of firearms registered with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives; private sales still often are not recorded; and this revolver is so old it is exempt from rules regarding registration of current sales of guns. Even the recent history of this revolver is vague. All the individual I purchased it from recalls is buying it at an estate sale a few years ago.

For anyone interested, here is a bit more history. The Colt Model 1877 came in three calibers: The "Rainmaker" in .32 Colt; the "Lightning" in .38 Long Colt; and the "Thunderer" in .41 Long Colt. It was among the first double action revolvers in existence and the very first made by Colt.

In "Old West" lore, John Wesley Hardin carried a Lightning and it was named by John Henry "Doc" Holliday as one of his favorite sidearms; Billy the Kid carried a Thunderer. I wish I knew who has carried this particular piece, but, because of the fine condition it is in, I would speculate that it has led a sheltered life. It shows no sign of being carried in a holster and little sign of being fired to any extent. The original blue finish is largely gone, but that would happen to any firearm simply from being left unattended for years at a time and only brought out for a periodic cleaning. Dust, natural air pollution, not to mention smoke and humidity, have their own way of affecting steel and wood.

One hundred twenty-seven years might not seem to be a very long period of time by some measures, but considering Minnesota was just emerging from frontier existence when this Lightning was "born," it is amazing it not only survived, but did in a condition near-new in all ways other than superficial cosmetic.

Think of it. This revolver might have gone west and been used at Wounded Knee or by an Arizona Ranger in gunfights along the Mexican border. It could have been tucked in the belt of a Rough Rider during the Spanish-American War or carried by a reporter accompanying General John "Black Jack" Pershing's expedition into Mexico pursuing Francisco "Pancho" Villa. Or, it might have found its way into the hands of John Dillinger or Lester "Baby Face" Nelson or George "Machine Gun Kelly" Barnes when they and other notorious gangsters roamed (and owned) the streets of Saint Paul (You did not know that, did you?) and other Midwestern cities in the 1920s and 1930s.

The list of ways this revolver could have been lost, broken or simply worn out during its one hundred twenty-seven-year history is endless, but, instead of vanishing, it found its way intact and functional and beautiful back to the point where it first was purchased.

Everything about this revolver makes me wonder. I wonder sometimes about the concept of being in the right place at the right time or in the wrong place at the wrong time. (Do not worry. I will keep this sort of brief.) I am not going to go off on a tangent into predestination or into the teachings of John Calvin and Calvinism or even into my own conservative Lutheran childhood. But, sometimes I do wonder.

Usually it is a more significant event about which I wonder in this context than it is about my encounter with a particular gun. Usually it is in the framework of having met a particular person at a particular time -- of friends, of lovers, of wives and the children who were the product of these encounters at a particular point in space and time. But, this "Lightning" strikes me as something special because I am a man who sees a life force of sorts within firearms -- and, this is a revolver "who" has been many places and done many things and yet "found its way back home" after an absence of one hundred twenty-seven years.

There are too many times when things happen because it seems like they are supposed to happen, meant to happen -- rather than merely take place because of coincidence or accident or random occurrence -- to walk away without reaching beyond the curtain of logic and ordinary dimensions. There has been another recent event remarkable in terms of "too strange to be coincidental" regarding guns in my life, as well as this one. Perhaps, I will write about it another day.

So, whether by design or the result of random chance, here I am in a geographic location where, only a few years ago, I did not expect to be and encountering a revolver more than one thousand miles distance from this geographic location and which had been "a resident" here and which had left from here one hundred and twenty-seven years ago almost to the day to lead its own abstract, unrecorded existence. Even the name of my blog, "Sort of San Francisco Fan Club," is linked in a sense to William Golcher, who originally owned the gun shop to which the Lightning was sent and who eventually moved from Saint Paul to San Francisco.

Silly as it might sound, in a cavern deep within the recesses of my mind I cannot help but think there is a nexus drifting in time and space centering upon the connections of Saint Paul and San Francisco and William Golcher and William Burkhard and the Sportsman's Headquarters and this particular Colt Lightning, No. 65911, and me -- me being here, in a place I never expected to have set up camp. (Camp = my residence, for those unfamiliar with my ways of talking/writing.) There are actual numbers forming part of my "equation," too, but I will forgo mentioning them or drifting any further into this quagmire before it begins to have the ring of mysticism.

And, yes, I often admit it: I am superstitious.

There are people, places and things I feel I have known in other places and, mostly, in other times. I mention it with some frequency and I feel compelled to paraphrase it again: "There are more things in heaven and earth, you who read here, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

All I need now are a cigar and a fruit jar filled with rye whiskey ....

A journey that lasted 127 years

A man named William Golcher, descended from English gunsmiths, left his home and his father's gun shop in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in 1855 to open his own establishment in Saint Paul, Minnesota. He was young, possibly still a teenager. After successfully running his "Sportsman's Headquarters" and making rifles worthy of being sought-after collector items today, he moved on to San Francisco, California. A man named William Burkhard took over the Saint Paul business, located at 23 East Third Street. The enterprise, under his name, lasted at least into the 1930s. What we have here is a lithograph showing the gun shop as it appeared in a Chicago publication in 1874. Pretty cool, hah ?? It was to this pioneer business that a Colt Lightning Model 1877 revolver was shipped on June 28, 1888. Now, after an absence of one hundred, twenty-seven years -- minus three days -- the Lightning is sort of home again.

Every age is the same. It is only love that makes them bearable. ---- H.G. Wells
 

That rifle on the wall of the labourer's cottage or working class flat is the symbol of democracy. It is our job to see that it stays there.  ---- George Orwell

 

Sort of a homecoming

Part 1 of 2 or 3 segments

Sometime after June 28, 1888, a man whose name is lost to history (at least, up to this point) walked into the William R. Burkhard Sportsman's Headquarters at 23 East Third Street in Saint Paul, Minnesota.

He was looking for a revolver to purchase.

You are free to speculate as to the reason why: Possibly, he was about to travel westward, into lands where Indian raids still occurred and when outlaws still robbed trains, banks and stagecoaches.

Possibly, he was desperate for money himself and planned to rob a train or a bank or a stagecoach.

Possibly, he knew that the husband of a woman he recently had seduced had sworn to kill him and wanted a handgun with which to defend himself .... or, conversely, he was bound and determined to shoot the man who had seduced his wife.

Possibly, he simply wished to have a sidearm with him on a hunting excursion with friends into the northern woodlands of Minnesota.

You are free to speculate.

For whatever reason he wanted a handgun, when this unknown man left Burkhard's establishment, he had one. The revolver which he purchased was a Colt Lightning Model 1877, serial number 65911. It was brand new off the production line and had been shipped from the Colt factory in Hartford, Connecticut, to the Saint Paul gun shop on June 28, 1888.

For those unaware, the Colt Manufacturing Company since opening its doors for business in 1855 has maintained one of the best record-keeping systems in the industry for initial tracking of its firearms. For a fee, Colt will produce a letter providing specific details about a weapon's nomenclature, as well as the date when it left the Connecticut factory and its shipping destination.

To offer a bit of background, the Burkhard business was the continuation of William Golcher's Sportsman's Headquarters, an enterprise that had been established by gunsmith Golcher in 1855. Golcher, descended from a well-respected line of English gunsmiths, had left his father's shop in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, to become "his own man out west."

For those unfamiliar with Minnesota, it only had become a state in 1858. Golcher was here from the beginnings of Minnesota territory and, today, his rifles are highly sought-after collectibles. I have none of his work, but I do have a shotgun made by his father in Philadelphia.

Although it is not really relevant to this story, it might be a curiosity factor to those interested in seemingly inexplicable coincidences that Golcher eventually left Saint Paul and moved on to open another gun shop in where, of all places, but San Francisco, California. (Get it? The name of this blog.) Whatever .... Golcher's departure led to Burkhard's arrival as owner of the Saint Paul business.

The Colt Lightning revolver purchased from the old Golcher / later Burkhard gun shop sometime after June 28, 1888, has returned to Minnesota within days of its original arrival one hundred and twenty-seven years ago.

I have it. I have this Colt Lightning and I have a factory letter documenting it -- serial number 65911 -- to authenticate its original provenance.

And, it is now only about ten miles from the location of the gun shop which once existed in Saint Paul and to which it was originally shipped from the Colt factory in Connecticut. That will be part two of this tale, which will appear on the anniversary of the Lightning's original shipping date -- June 28.

Time for the music

Legs, looks and lyrics .... when class was real .... pardon the expletive, but this performance is so damn much better than the often vulgar, overly tattooed, desperate-for-attention twerking stage acts of today.

I heard this song on the radio a few days ago and checked it out on YouTube. I do recall hearing it now and then in the past, but the name of the group, The Three Degrees, is not present among my memories. However, I noticed the name, James Last, in the background as the band accompanying the singers in the video. I have been in nightclubs where his band was performing, and knew he died just a few weeks ago in West Palm Beach, Florida, where he had a home.

From my perspective, these ingredients create another curiosity factor / inexplicable coincidence. The last time I had seen this well-known German bandleader was in Palm Beach Gardens, about a dozen miles from his Florida home and from where I was concluding a business transaction. Someday, I might tell the story of that transaction and that nightclub -- which might make the picture a bit more clear -- but, for now, I simply hope you like the song .... I love it.
 

My voice is as the wind amidst ghosts

I tried to fly to the moon a few nights ago, but it was just a bit too far. This is as close as I came before I turned back toward home. Pretty nice shot, hah ?? I went because I wanted to see what was on the dark side of the moon -- to discover if it might be darker than the dark side of my soul. I probably never will learn the answer now. All things might be possible, but the time must be right for them to be. I suppose I am fortunate that I did not attempt to reach the sun. Although, like the dark, I am curious to know if the bright side of my soul (Dare I say the enlightened side ??) is as bright as is the sun, had I come so near to the sun as I did to the moon, the wax securing my wings might have melted and I would have been in real trouble. Turning to the music, I am putting up three more songs from The Killers. I sometimes use a band a few times and sometimes use a song or a variation of it by a different band a few times, but this is the first time I have run songs by the same band in posts only a few days apart. Hmmmm .... so what, I ask myself ?? I guess I am fascinated by the band's sound and, especially, at the moment, by its lyrics. It probably is the best musical poetry since Bobby Zimmerman was a student skipping classes at the University of Minnesota and dreaming about New York City. In reference to one of the songs (I am confident you will figure this out if you listen to the music), it could be he does look a bit like Jesus, except for the Colt Lightning in the back pocket of his jeans.

More of the same from me

This post will be liked by few and rejected by many, I would guess.

The point of this post is a continuation of the proposition that there is an incalculable number of genetically varied hominoid beings (Homo sapien sapiens) inhabiting the earth at this moment. Simply put, just as there are many similarities among them (us), there are many genetic abstractions to compound the more obvious differences such as intelligence, physical talent and emotional stability:

No one key can unlock all the doors -- except, maybe, in the future, genetic engineering will flower and be accepted, and the genome of individuals will not only be mapped, but be manipulated.

 And yet, today, some politically indoctrinated, narcissistic pied piper thinks a smile, a hug, a few government handout dollars and a pharisaical ideology will "convert" all these genetic variations into one idolatrous, drug-induced, educationally-mesmerized, happy family. Dream on .... uffff ....

I recently heard a well-known television commentator say that he thought the world was going to explode within a few years. He did not mean literally as from a nuclear holocaust, but, rather, a worldwide social and economic collapse brought about through dozens of brushfire wars created by raving, religious zealots intent upon the destruction of any and all who reject their narrow vision of our existence and permitted to happen through the impotence of worshippers of political correctness, utopian fantasies and socialistic policies.

I think this television commentator was correct in his analysis. I am not sure if this murderous metamorphosis will happen this year or next, but I think it probably will happen before the decade ends if another mirror-mirror-on-the-wall fool in love with himself (or herself) is elected president of the United States.

To look at history (simply look, not even study) is to see that evolution remains the constant force of life on earth and that not only the strongest individuals survive and prosper, but that the nations with the strongest leaders and most resolute citizenry are those which not only survive, but prosper.

History demonstrates that nations and even civilizations, like people, come and go -- rise and fall. While it is too soon to see the dominate forces a few decades from now, it is clearly evident that the United States and Western-style democracies are on a downward spiral. The dangers, of course, are not only from external forces such as Islamic extremists, but also from internal, entitlement ideologues who believe they are something special and are out to prove that they know what is best not only for themselves, but for everyone else.

 Not long ago, there was a popular bumper sticker which read: "He who dies with the most toys wins."

Really, that is true, but most people have no idea what it represents below the surface. And, contrary to the ideology (pathology) of Mr. President Barack Hussein Obama, golf clubs and basketballs are not part of the equation.

Just another piece of the puzzle

MUNICH, GERMANY — Analysis of DNA obtained from a 40,000-year-old jawbone from Romania's Oase Cave -- one of the earliest modern-human fossils found in Europe -- indicates that five to eleven percent of the man's genome came from a Neanderthal ancestor. "The data from the jawbone imply that humans mixed with Neanderthals not just in the Middle East but in Europe as well," researcher Qiaomei Fu said in a press release.

The international team of scientists, including researchers from the Emil Racoviţă Institute of Speleology, the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology, Harvard Medical School, and Beijing's Key Laboratory of Vertebrate Evolution and Human Origins, estimates that the man's exceptionally large segments of inherited Neanderthal DNA, which shorten with each generation, came from a Neanderthal ancestor in the previous four to six generations.

"Interestingly, the Oase individual does not seem to have any direct descendants in Europe today. It may be that he was part of an early migration of modern humans to Europe that interacted closely with Neanderthals but eventually became extinct," added David Reich, who coordinated the population genetic analyses of the study.

Do you remember when we used to dance ??

In the beginning there was .... what ?? Well, almost in the beginning for me there were guns -- so, it is only logical for me to return to them again and again. These two Colt 1911s are explained further into the post. In the meanwhile, how do you like my backyard tree root supporting the pistols? Look at the upper right corner. This appears to me to be Nature's version of "The Scream" -- the puzzling painting by Norwegian artist Edvard Munch. Do you see ??

Rambling thoughts & guns

# 1 -- Among all the people who have been born and have lived a full life before dying, how many of them were born at the right moment in time with the right talents and intelligence, as well as the sufficient strength, ambition and desire to live up to their potential? Few, I would think, relatively speaking. And, among those few, how many have done good rather than evil? Actually ??

# 2 -- I am patient when I hunt, but in most other regards, very impatient. I wonder why ....

# 3 -- The guns, baby .... sort of fraternal twins: The grips are different, the main spring housing units are different (Young ladies, if you know what the main spring housing is, are you single and available?), the script "roll marks" and other identifying markings are a touch different and, they come from different decades.

 

Both are Colt Model 1911 pistols. The one to the left is the senior, made in 1955. The other is more of a youngster, made in 1963. Both are in near-new condition, with the finishes near-perfect. The bright, shiny areas are caused by glare/reflection from the sun. The '55 appears never to have been fired. The '63 I have had for a while and carried a bit and used a bit and treasure more than a bit; the '55 just arrived last week.

 

Well, you know "me and guns." We talk to each other and understand each other. The Colt 1911 (its "birth year") is the most magnificent handgun ever designed, in my not-so-humble opinion. John Browning did it, and it became the standard U.S. military sidearm for seventy-five years -- from 1911 to 1986.

 

But, while the U.S. government in its infinite idiocy switched out the 1911s for other handguns during the 1980s -- pistols whose names I refuse to mention here -- many among the real deal guys -- Marine Corps Force Recon, Navy SEALS and Army Special Forces -- still carry 1911-style pistols. Simply put, it is another illustration of the differences between politicians and the military professionals who actually walk the walk.

(In case you have not figured it out, I still am in an indecisive mood .... and coasting .... and on a gun-buying kick again.)

# 4 -- Konnichiwa .... I always enjoyed the sound of Asia, but never realized how really, really good this band was .... not great, but really good. If you have an hour to spare and if you are into sort of soft, gentle rock 'n' roll (by my definition), I think you will like what you hear in this live performance by Asia at the Budokan in Japan.

# 5 -- Actually, I am more into the Kodokan than the Budokan and was there once as a student for a few months .... the Kodokan, I mean. My presence at the Kodokan took place a number of years before Vladimir Putin was there. Yes, he has been there, too .... sorry I missed him .... to have gone a few rounds with him would have been nothing but pure fun. Gotcha wondering ?? Figure it out ....

Just to end on a political note, although I vehemently disagree with what Putin is doing in the Ukraine, I would shake his hand should the opportunity ever arise. I would, however, refuse to shake the hand of Barack Obama. Obama is more destructive than is Putin, but is too narcissistic to realize it .... psychopathically challenged, you see. And, it is readily evident that while Putin loves Russia and the greatness that was the former Soviet Union, Obama despises the United States that was and is and, despite his failed policies and after his dismal presidency is over, will rise again.

Such expression of thought is defined as freedom of speech in the United States and condemned by the adherents of political correctness. I may not be educationally qualified to make such comments about "Barry," but I have an uncle who is a psychiatrist and two university students majoring in psychology in the family, and I simply interpret and transfer their analyses of me onto others .... teasing .... sort of ....

Finally, if you do not know the difference between the Budokan and the Kodokan, well, what are you waiting for ?? .... live and look and learn, rather than waiting and hoping to be told ....

Homo heidelbergensis .... the time was wrong

Homo heidelbergensis

Photograph by Javier Trueba, Madrid Scientific Films

(Editor's Note: This brief article was originally published by the Cleveland Museum of Natural History. It offers, I believe, further support for my May 3, 2015, post, "There never will be just one." Whatever .... I find this concept fascinating and, maybe, you will, too .... and, think of this as a continuation of a prelude, but not really a tease.)

CLEVELAND, OHIO — Fossils of the upper and lower jaw of a new early human ancestor were discovered in the Woranso-Mille area of the Afar region of Ethiopia by an international team of scientists led by Yohannes Haile-Selassie of the Cleveland Museum of Natural History. The Australopithecus deyiremeda fossils are 3.3 to 3.5 million years old, overlapping with Australopithecus afarensis, who lived from 2.9 to 3.8 million years ago. Australopithecus deyiremeda differs from the famous "Lucy" fossils in the size and shape of its thick-enameled teeth and its robust lower jaws, suggesting that the two closely related species had different diets.

"Current fossil evidence from the Woranso-Mille study area clearly shows that there were at least two, if not three, early human species living at the same time and in close geographic proximity," Haile-Salassie said in a press release. The name of the new species, deyiremeda, (day-ihreme-dah) means "close relative" in the language spoken by the Afar people. To read about more recent evolutionary history, go to "Our Tangled Ancestry."

Our Tangled Ancestry
By Zach Zorich

When scientists attempt to draw the evolutionary family tree of the human race, they would like to be able to use straight lines to show the relationships between hominin groups: one species leads to another, and so on. But this isn't always possible. Three recent studies of ancient DNA have uncovered unique genetic markers in unexpected places, showing that our ancestors got around and interbred more than anyone had previously thought. The result is a convoluted set of relationships among early humans where once there was a simpler family tree.

The story of this new work begins in northern Spain. There, a group of Spanish researchers at the site of Sima de los Huesos teamed up with geneticists from the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology to examine the oldest known hominin DNA sample, which comes from a 400,000-year-old Homo heidelbergensis thigh bone. They sequenced the bone's mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA), which is passed from mother to child. "What we were expecting to see was Neanderthal mitochondrial DNA," says Matthias Meyer of the Max Planck Institute, as Neanderthals would later occupy that part of Europe and might be expected to carry genetic material from the previous inhabitants. Surprisingly, the mtDNA is instead more closely related to that of a hominin who lived more than 50,000 years ago in Siberia's Denisova Cave than it is to that of Neanderthals. The Denisovans were related to, but genetically distinct from, Neanderthals.

According to Meyer, the Sima de los Huesos sample is old enough that it could represent an ancestor to both Denisovans and Neanderthals. However, it is also possible that Homo heidelbergensis is not ancestral to either group, but later interbred with the Denisovan lineage. Studies of nuclear DNA, which contains genetic information from both parents, will be needed to clarify the relationship, Meyer believes.

Max Planck Institute scientists also recently sequenced the genome of a second individual who lived at Denisova more than 50,000 years ago. They discovered that the individual was actually a Neanderthal, not a Denisovan. It is the most complete Neanderthal genome yet recovered, and it has given geneticists a novel point of comparison among various human lineages. The new analysis shows that occasional interbreeding between Neanderthals, Denisovans, and Homo sapiens probably took place in more than one time and place, and that the Denisovans also interbred with an unknown archaic hominin group -- possibly Homo heidelbergensis.

According to another new study with surprising results, a small percentage of the Denisovans' unique DNA still lives on in the indigenous people of Australia, New Guinea, and the eastern islands of Indonesia -- all places that are separated from the Asian mainland by strong ocean currents that form a migratory barrier called the Wallace Line. Based on the lack of Denisovan DNA markers in ancient and modern populations on the Asian side of the line, and their relative abundance on the other, Alan Cooper of the University of Adelaide and Christopher Stringer of London's Natural History Museum believe that Denisovans may have boated to locations across the Wallace Line and interbred with the Homo sapiens already living there.

While these studies paint a complex picture of our genetic past, Meyer believes the relationships between ancient humans will become clear as methods for recovering ancient DNA improve. "In the next year or two," he says, "we will have a much, much higher-resolution picture of human migrations out of Africa and within Eurasia."

(Closing Note: So, say I once again, we are not a singular, straight line species, but a variety of species which have intermingled and may have as many branches as there are stars in the sky and have indeterminate genetic influences forming us, guiding us, controlling us. There are innate traits which explain good and evil, among other differences. Science will establish it. Perhaps, the assorted twain shall meet, but do not count on it happening anytime soon and, probably, not without "genetic engineering." Finally, to place a trace of my own genetic markers in this post, I will add this observation: Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt was reckless but right; Barack Obama is a narcissistic idiot. Make of that remark what you will. And, for a bit of music to accompany the thoughts expressed, I will include a pair of songs from one of my favorite Twenty-first Century bands, The Killers. Make of the music what you will ....)

This is a prelude & sort of a tease

Lenore:
But who is Scaramouche?
And why does he hide his face behind a mask?

Scaramouche:
We're all out of our minds, haven't you observed it?

A dagger in the form of a prelude ....
or, vice versa

I have written before that Rafael Sabatini's 1921 book, "Scaramouche," is among my favorite novels and that the film version from 1952 is among my favorite motion pictures from that era. I have been listening to the soundtrack from that film off and on for the past few days, and decided I wanted to post it.

So, here is Victor Young's most enchanting musical suite for and from the film, "Scaramouche." Listen, at least, if you do not have the patience to hear it all in its entirety, to the brief few seconds between 15:00 and 16:30, most particularly from 15:50 to 16:30. If that forty-second refrain does not melt your heart, I do not think you have one. It strikes me like a dagger .... and, I know of what I speak ....

Warmed over death .... but I like it, like it

 

In case you missed the Stones in Minneapolis last week,
here is a taste of what was .... 

Next concert stop: August 7, 2015
Location: Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, Sioux City, Iowa
On stage: Deep Purple

See you there, baby ....
Before then, be back here in another week or so ....