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Jun. 23rd, 2014
The cats have taken to lying down in the dirt aside the house. The sun is out and it’s 93 degrees. This confirms my notion that it is time to try to get them back in the house during these summer days. I started doing so earlier this month, because we had a couple of days when the temperature soared into the mid-nineties, but when it cooled again, I let them go. However, I worry about being able to get them back in so readily. I always have this worry in the beginning of summer, and it has always proven unfounded, but they do strike me as being more jealous of their freedom this year. I’m not going to fight them hard and run around outside all day to catch them, but I will starve them a little overnight. I really do want them indoors.
Besides, I like to keep them a little domesticated. I am afraid that we did not fully succeed in socializing them. That may be because Coco and Sammy were left outside for their first five months of life, before Willy suffered that terrible death, as we had no intention of making them housecats, as I was content to just to be able to pet them and pick them up for cuddles. Then there is Ash, who was left to run outside for a little over the first year of her life. I’m afraid thee animals are sort of half feral.
Besides, I like to keep them a little domesticated. I am afraid that we did not fully succeed in socializing them. That may be because Coco and Sammy were left outside for their first five months of life, before Willy suffered that terrible death, as we had no intention of making them housecats, as I was content to just to be able to pet them and pick them up for cuddles. Then there is Ash, who was left to run outside for a little over the first year of her life. I’m afraid thee animals are sort of half feral.
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By the end of 1954, despite the generous nibblings at success, young Elvis was making only “extra” money. He still had his job as a truck driver. Weeknights, when he sang at local restaurant complexes like the Eagle’s Nest, money at best was never more than fifteen dollars a night. Good money for the times, but no king’s ransom. In the beginning, performing for adult audiences in semi-darkened nightclub rooms, Presley was received politely, but without overwhelming enthusiasm.
“He did a damn good show,” says Red, “but the older audiences in the South were pretty conservative, and they hankered more for traditional country and western stuff or straight ballads. Elvis would get up there on stage fired with more enthusiasm than ten men, but it didn’t really drive the older audiences crazy. But when he got on the circuit playing high school audiences and opening drugstores and stuff like that, it was a different thing.”
His un-self-conscious enthusiasm washed over the younger crowds, and they got swept away. Elvis was theirs. He wasn’t a hand-me-down from another generation; he was theirs. “When I first saw him turn those kids on,” says Red, “I didn’t know what he had, but he had it to spare.”
-- Steve Dunleavy, “Elvis: What Happened?”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
( Read more... )
By the end of 1954, despite the generous nibblings at success, young Elvis was making only “extra” money. He still had his job as a truck driver. Weeknights, when he sang at local restaurant complexes like the Eagle’s Nest, money at best was never more than fifteen dollars a night. Good money for the times, but no king’s ransom. In the beginning, performing for adult audiences in semi-darkened nightclub rooms, Presley was received politely, but without overwhelming enthusiasm.
“He did a damn good show,” says Red, “but the older audiences in the South were pretty conservative, and they hankered more for traditional country and western stuff or straight ballads. Elvis would get up there on stage fired with more enthusiasm than ten men, but it didn’t really drive the older audiences crazy. But when he got on the circuit playing high school audiences and opening drugstores and stuff like that, it was a different thing.”
His un-self-conscious enthusiasm washed over the younger crowds, and they got swept away. Elvis was theirs. He wasn’t a hand-me-down from another generation; he was theirs. “When I first saw him turn those kids on,” says Red, “I didn’t know what he had, but he had it to spare.”
-- Steve Dunleavy, “Elvis: What Happened?”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
( Read more... )