Explore " famous birthdays" with insightful episodes like "InfluenceWeekly #21 - $100 Billion Bet on 'Famous Birthdays', Embracing Your 'TikTok Voice', and Beauty Execs' Big Bet on Influencer Entrepreneurs", "Learning from Coco Mocoe, the creator predicting the future of culture", "Famous Birthdays, Evan Britton Co-Hosts, YouTube Returns to Vidcon, Netflix Goes to Upfronts and TikTok’s Advertising Trick. Plus Monetizing Shorts, MrBeast and ChatGPT Issues", "Logan Paul signs with WWE, TikTok pulls back and the Interview with Famous Birthdays, Evan Britton" and "Lauren Apologizes, Big VidCon News, Linktree Rebrands, Famous Birthdays talks Alexa and Instagram Reels Updates… meh, again." from podcasts like ""Influence Weekly", "Creator Culture", "Creator Upload", "Creator Upload" and "Creator Upload"" and more!
In today's episode, we'll cover the 100 Billion Dollar Bet on 'Famous Birthdays', How to keep embracing Your 'TikTok Voice', and Beauty Execs' Big Bet on Influencer Entrepreneurs.
Today’s guest is the queen of recognizing patterns and identifying talent. She started her career at Famous Birthday’s where, fun fact, she found Charlie D’Amelio at 50k followers on TikTok. Today’s guest thrives on observing culture and predicting what will happen next. She’s a history nut that wholeheartedly believes that the past is a window into the future or as she says “As life changes nothing changes”.
Enjoy the conversation with Coco Mocoe!
Coco Mocoe's links
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@cocomocoe?lang=en
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CocoMocoe
Her podcast: https://open.spotify.com/show/3WMVk1vVWPwjTDuvCR45KJ?si=89ef25feb9e648f4
#paid links
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hashtagpaid/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@hashtagpaid.
Website: https://hashtagpaid.com/creators-new
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The date is November 29th, Friday, and today I’m coming to you from Port Vila, Vanuatu.
And today is the birthday of Louisa May Alcott, American writer.
Louisa May was born to a small family in 1832 in what is now Philadelphia, PA. They didn’t stay long there. The family would move to Boston shortly following Dad’s dream of founding a Transcendentalist school. The family would move 22 times in 30 years, mostly in and around New England.
While Alcott’s father was a man of high-minded ideals, he was not a man of high income. From a young age Louisa May had to work to supplement the family’s income. She, her mother and sisters worked in a variety of domestic roles from governesses to seamstresses.
Her father’s transcendentalist ideas did allow him to circulate with the likes of Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson and meant he placed a strong emphasis on reading and philosophy. At one point the family corresponded with Frederick Douglass while a housing a fugitive slave as part of the Underground Railroad.
At age 27, Alcott began more seriously, a writing career. She started writing for The Atlantic Monthly, and, after a spell as a nurse in the Civil War— Alcott was a passionate abolitionist— and then as a patient from becoming deathly ill, her writing career took off. She published Hospital Sketches and Moods, both of which were well received for their humor and candor. She took on the pen name A. M. Barnard to publish more adventure-driven stories.
When Alcott’s classic Little Women first appeared in 1868, Alcott was skeptical it would be reviewed favorably—perhaps because she was concerned at how close it was to an autobiography. But it did well enough to have three sequels which followed the “little women” from adolescence to adulthood with their own kids: Good Wives, Little Men, and Jo’s Boys.
One of Alcotts childhood homes in Massachusetts is now a museum dedicated to the Alcott family legacy, and Lousia May Alcott was inducted into the National Women’s Hall of Fame 1996.
Today is the birthday of Ann Dunham, American anthropologist.
Dunham was born in Kansas, but became an island girl when she followed her parents in moving to Hawaii. While a student at the new University of Hawaii at Mānoa, Dunham met an intelligent, independent man from Kenya named Barack Obama. The two, Dunham 18 and Obama 23, fell for each other and married, against the wishes of their parents, despite the fact that Ann Dunham Obama was already 3 months pregnant.
Dunham-Obama gave birth to Barack Obama II in August 1961 and was in classes the next semester, this time at the University of Washington in Seattle. Obama, Sr remained in Hawaii working in his original course of study. He departed for Harvard not long after that, Dunham raising little Obama in Hawaii with the help of her parents. Little did she know that her bundle of joy, who she would sometimes take with her to classes, would one day become that Barack Obama, the 44th President of the United States.
In addition to being a mother, Ann Dunham was an anthropologist who found her calling studying and aiding women of Indonesia. She lived in Jakarta with her second husband and 6-year-old Barack for a number of years before returning to Hawaii to begin work on a PhD, partially funded by a grant from The Asia Foundation. She would return again to Indonesia many times, a champion for women in rural communities and starting one of the early microcredit programs in Indonesia.
Lullaby
Louisa May Alcott
Now the day is done,
Now the shepherd sun
Drives his white flocks from the sky;
Now the flowers rest
On their mother's breast,
Hushed by her low lullaby.
Now the glowworms glance,
Now the fireflies dance,
Under fern-boughs green and high;
And the western breeze
To the forest trees
Chants a tuneful lullaby.
Now 'mid shadows deep
Falls blessed sleep,
Like dew from the summer sky;
And the whole earth dreams,
In the moon's soft beams,
While night breathes a lullaby.
Now, birdlings, rest,
In your wind-rocked nest,
Unscared by the owl's shrill cry;
For with folded wings
Little Brier swings,
And singeth your lullaby.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host, Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely weekend.
Check out today's episode on our website.
The date is November 22nd, Friday, and today I’m coming to you from Port Vila, Vanuatu.
On this day in 1995, Toy Story premiered in theaters.
Toy Story was the first feature-length film created completely using computer-generated imagery. It took around 5 years and $30 million to make. It was a worthy investment as Toy Story grossed nearly $380 million at the box office worldwide, was nominated for three Academy Awards and two Golden Globes, and launched a franchise of related merchandise, video games, and sequels. The most recent sequel, Toy Story 4, came out in June 2019 and grossed $1 billion at the box office.
And today is the birthday of George Eliot, English writer.
Of course many listeners will know that George Eliot is a pen name - the writer’s true identity was Mary Ann Evans.
As a young child, Mary Ann Evans was declared unpretty. She did possess obvious smarts though, and so her father sent her to a boarding school in the hopes that she could develop her brains to make up for her lack of beauty. The amount of formal schooling she received was unusual for a country girl in the first half of the 1800s.
George Eliot returned from school around 16 to take care of the home after her mother’s death. She continued reading voraciously and corresponded via letters with her former teacher.
Still unmarried at age 21, George Eliot followed her father in his move to a town near the larger-sized Coventry, where she became friends with a well-connected couple, and started to mix with the intelligentsia of the town. When Eliot’s father passed away in 1849, it was if she was newly liberated.
Eliot subsequently took a trip to mainland Europe with close friends of her and stayed in Geneva for a spell. Upon her return to England she relocated to London, taking up a position as an editor at a couple literary magazines as she continued to write on her own. While an editor she made up her mind to write novels, perhaps to fill a hole in what she saw as “Silly Novels by Lady Novelists.”
Partly to keep her writing career separate from her editing career, and also to escape public scrutiny, Mary Ann Evans published all her novels as George Eliot. At the time, Eliot was living with a married man, and polite society disapproved of the arrangement, despite Eliot’s partner being in an open relationship.
Mary Ann Evans was forced to admit that it was she who was truly George Eliot after other writers began claiming they were George Eliot. Fortunately, Eliot’s books had already become beloved by the public and Mary Ann carried on living with her partner without harm to her book sales.
Eliot’s most notable novels include Adam Bede, The Mill on Floss, and Middlemarch. Middlemarch in particular stands out among her works - it is the novel most often adapted to TV and film and although scholarly opinions remain mixed, Emily Dickinson and Virginia Woolf were personal fans of the novel. Emily Dickinson once said in a letter to her cousin: “What do I think of Middlemarch? What do I think of glory?”
Count that Day Lost
George Eliot
If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard,
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went --
Then you may count that day well spent.
But if, through all the livelong day,
You've cheered no heart, by yea or nay --
If, through it all
You've nothing done that you can trace
That brought the sunshine to one face--
No act most small
That helped some soul and nothing cost --
Then count that day as worse than lost.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely weekend.
Don't forget to check out our website!
The date is November 21st, Thursday, and today I’m coming to you from Port Vila, Vanuatu.
Today is the birthday of Catharina Questiers, Dutch writer.
Catharina was born in 1631 in Amsterdam where she lived her whole life. She focused her efforts on plays and poetry and is speculated to be the youngest person to write Dutch plays and have them professionally produced.
Catharina Questiers gained public noteriety when her play, based on the structure of the popular Spanish romances, premiered starring the alluring Ariana Nozeman, a top-billed actress. Sold out performances and positive reviews solidified Questiers as a playwright to watch.
Questiers amassed a substantial amount of wealth in her lifetime. She didn’t marry until age 34 which was strange for the time. She claimed to have put off marriage because she enjoyed her freedom so much. Questiers also knew that once she were married she would have to give up any paid work, which she did after marrying Johan Cough in 1664. Her last play was The Battle for Laurels.
And today is the birthday of Voltaire, French philosopher, writer, and historian.
Voltaire was born Francois-Marie Arouet in 1694 in Paris to an upper-middle-class family. His parents hoped he would grow up to become a lawyer or at least have a steady career in government. But the independent-minded youngin wished to become a writer instead.
However, young Voltaire did still have to make money and so he worked some jobs set up by his father. He wrote essays, histories, and poetry, developing a quick wit which made him a popular among the socialites in Paris.
Naturally, his independent spirit and penchant for satire got him in trouble along the way. He went to jail or was exiled to England a few times in response to unflattering depictions of the Regent and the Church - though the French Regent would later honor Voltaire for his writings.
Voltaire adopted the name “Voltaire” in 1718 after one of his spells in jail. His last name “Arouet” unfortunately was very similar to the French word for getting beaten up - an easy target for puns and highly unglamorous. As a child, Voltaire’s sister had often called him “un petit volontaire” or “a determined little thing.” Voltaire is also an anagram for the Latin-ized form of the French name “Arouet” - the anagram theory is supported by scholars. In any case, it certainly made him stand out even more among his contemporaries.
Voltaire’s exile to England proved rather productive as he mixed with the best the literary community had to offer. Returning to France, he was able to finally sort out his shabby financial situation and receive money his father had tied up in a trust for him. With that, Voltaire could devote himself entirely to writing, without having to worry about money - must’ve been nice.
Voltaire lived to the ripe old age of 83 - quite a feat in the 18th century. He is one of the most beloved French writers, countless writers, scholars, and politicians of his time and after cite Voltaire’s works as instrumental in forming their own philosophies.
Famous quotations attributed to Voltaire include:
If you like this poem, check out the collected works of Lucille Clifton, a modern American poet.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is November 20th, Wednesday, and today I’m coming to you from Port Vila, Vanuatu.
Today’s episode is brought to you by the generous, the warm-hearted, the green-thumbed Candy P. or Oregon.
Today is the birthday of Selma Lagerlöf, Swedish writer.
Lagerlöf was the first woman to win a Nobel Prize in Literature, receiving the award in 1909 at the age of 51 “in appreciation of the lofty idealism, vivid imagination and spiritual perception that characterize her writings.”
Lagerlöf was quiet and contemplative as a child, busying herself with books in between private tutoring sessions with her siblings and listening enraptured by her grandmother's telling of fairy and folk tales. She finished reading her first novel at age seven and by age ten had read the Bible cover to cover.
She received an education to become a teacher and for a few years in the 1880s, she gladly regaled her students with stories during all possible lessons. She worked on her first novel in her spare time.
Her first novel, Gösta Berling's Saga, slowly became a hit and it’s eventually status as a bestseller allowed her to quit teaching to write full time.
Her next works were largely inspired by her travels to Israel, the East, and Italy. She was commissioned to write a children’s book with an emphasis on teaching geography. The final product was The Wonderful Adventures of Nils, the Swedish title I will not be attempting to pronounce. It became so popular as to be translated into 30 languages. The tale revolves around main character Nils who gets shrunk down to three or four inches and then flies around on the backs of geese trying to make his way home so he can be returned to his proper size.
In addition to publishing prolifically over a 50-year career, Lagerlöf was deeply involved in the women’s suffrage movement in Sweden. In addition to being the first woman to win a Nobel Prize in Literature, she was also the first woman to be a member of the Swedish Academy and the first woman to be featured on Swedish currency.
During WWII, Lagerlöf donated her gold Nobel Prize to neighboring Finland who was in the midst of fending off encroaching Soviet Forces. Reportedly, the Finnish government was so moved Lagerlöf’s donation, that they returned the prize after raising the equivalent monies themselves.
The Copernican System
Thomas Chatterton
The Sun revolving on his axis turns,
And with creative fire intensely burns;
Impell'd by forcive air, our Earth supreme,
Rolls with the planets round the solar gleam.
First Mercury completes his transient year,
Glowing, refulgent, with reflected glare;
Bright Venus occupies a wider way,
The early harbinger of night and day;
More distant still our globe terraqueous turns,
Nor chills intense, nor fiercely heated burns;
Around her rolls the lunar orb of light,
Trailing her silver glories through the night:
On the Earth's orbit see the various signs,
Mark where the Sun our year completing shines;
First the bright Ram his languid ray improves;
Next glaring watry thro' the Bull he moves;
The am'rous Twins admit his genial ray;
Now burning thro' the Crab he takes his way;
The Lion flaming bears the solar power;
The Virgin faints beneath the sultry show'r,
Now the just Balance weighs his equal force,
The slimy Serpent swelters in his course;
The sabled Archer clouds his languid face;
The Goat, with tempests, urges on his race;
Now in the Wat'rer his faint beams appear,
And the cold Fishes end the circling year.
Beyond our globe the sanguine Mars displays
A strong reflection of primoeval rays;
Next belted Jupiter far distant gleams,
Scarcely enlighten'd with the solar beams,
With four unfix'd receptacles of light,
He tours majestic thro' the spacious height:
But farther yet the tardy Saturn lags,
And five attendant Luminaries drags,
Investing with a double ring his pace,
He circles thro' immensity of space.
These are thy wondrous works, first source of Good!
Now more admir'd in being understood.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is November 19th, Tuesday, and today I’m coming to you from Port Vila, Vanuatu.
Today is the birthday of Hiram Bingham III, American professor and explorer.
Born in Hawaii to arguably successful missionaries, Hiram Bingham III would hold on to his father’s work ethic and adventurous spirit, though he would not be quite so pious or humble.
In fact, It was Hiram Bingham III who felt that, “If a man were going to work that hard, someone ought to know about it.”
Hiram left Hawaii for the mainland as a teen, bound for the East Coast where he completed his education among Ivy-league colleges. He studied Latin American history and married Alfreda Mitchell, an heiress to the Tiffany & Co fortune in 1900 at age 24. The Tiffany side of Alfreda’s family looked down on Bingham who they felt had yet to prove himself worthy .
Bingham then spent his next few years as a professor, first at Harvard, then at Princeton under Woodrow Wilson, and finally landing back at his alma mater Yale in 1907.
Bingham had his first taste of exploration after attending a conference in 1908 in Santiago, Chile. Crossing through Peru on his way back, he was convinced by a local to check out the nearby Incan ruins of Choquequirao. Bingham published an account of his travels when he returned back to the states, which threw him unofficially into the ring of the last age of discovery.
Wanting to prove himself to the world and his wife’s family, and inspired by tales of the Lost Incan City, Bingham had the audacious idea to go find it. An amateur archaeologist and explorer, Bingham was able to get funding from Yale and pull together a crew for the trek into the Andes to find the “Lost City.” After rediscovering the Incan ruins of Vilcabamba and Vitcos, finally, in July 1911, Hiram Bingham was led by a local villager up to Machu Picchu. Armed with a camera and plenty of carry on space, so to speak, Bingham carefully documented his findings and photographed what he could, with the intent to submit an article on his discover to National Geographic magazine.
Bingham’s party packed up items from the city covered in vines and plants of all kinds. It unclear just how many artifacts Bingham took, and the return of the artifacts to the Peruvian government has been a cause for consternation between Peru and Yale for decades now.
Bingham published an account of his journey to Machu Picchu in 1948 titled Lost City of the Incas and it was an instant bestseller.
If you are thinking that Hiram Bingham’s story sounds familiar, you’ll likely be able to recognize many of his characteristics in movie character Indiana Jones - though Bingham had a much more wiry build compared to the muscle-y Jones depicted by Harrison Ford.
Upon the Heights
Yone Noguchi
And victor of life and silence,
I stood upon the Heights; triumphant,
With upturned eyes, I stood,
And smiled unto the sun, and sang
A beautifully sad farewell unto the dying day.
And my thoughts and the eve gathered
Their serpentine mysteries around me,
My thoughts like alien breezes,
The eve like a fragrant legend.
My feeling was that I stood as one
Serenely poised for flight, as a muse
Of golden melody and lofty grace.
Yea, I stood as one scorning the swords
And wanton menace of the cities.
The sun had heavily sunk into the seas beyond,
And left me a tempting sweet and twilight.
The eve with trailing shadows westward
Swept on, and the lengthened shadows of trees
Disappeared: how silently the songs of silence
Steal into my soul! And still I stood
Among the crickets, in the beauteous profundity
Sung by stars; and I saw me
Softly melted into the eve. The moon
Slowly rose: my shadow on the ground
Dreamily began a dreamy roam,
And I upward smiled silent welcome.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is September 10th, Tuesday, and today I’m coming to you from Tejakula, Bali. Today is also our 100th episode!
On this day in 1960, Abebe Bikila became the first sub-Saharan African to win an Olympic gold medal, and the first Ethiopian gold medalist.
It was the Summer Olympics in Rome and Abebe Bikila had just bought a new pair of shoes a week earlier for the marathon. The shoes, to his disappointment gave him awful blisters and so Bikila decided he would just run without shoes.
That’s right, Abebe Bikila won a Gold Medal running barefoot. Luckily for Bikila the race started in the late-afternoon and finished after dark so the course was cooling down while he ran.
Bikila was neck-and-neck with another competitor until the last 500 meters (nearly a third of a mile) when he took off in a sprint. Italian soldiers holding torches lit the rest of the way as Bikila zoomed past them.
He finished in 2 hours, 15 minutes, 16.2 seconds, breaking the world record by eight tenths. As soon as he crossed the finish line, he began a calisthenics routine, touching his toes, jogging in place, and reported feeling quite well, later stating he felt he could have run another 10 to 15 km further.
And today is the birthday of Hilda "H.D." Doolittle, American writer.
Doolittle was born in 1886, the only girl in a family of 6 children. Education was important in the family: Doolittle’s father was an astronomy professor and her brothers were expected to get a proper education.
At 15, Doolittle met 16-year-old Ezra Pound, a student at nearby University of Pennsylvania. They began a teenage romance that continued into their early twenties. Pound composed at least 25 poems inspired by Doolittle.
When it came time for continued education Doolittle attended Bryn Mawr College, a short distance from her home and UPenn. Pound encouraged Doolittle in her writing and dubbed her “H.D.” the pen name which she would use all her life. The two were engaged, but Doolittle’s father rejected the match and their relationship cooled.
In 1911, she boarded a ship to Europe for a vacation with her female lover Frances Gregg. However, upon arriving in London, Doolittle, a beauty with a sharp, creative mind, was eagerly welcomed by the intellectual community. She stayed in London, working at a literary magazine. In 1913 around age 26, H.D. married poet Richard Adlington.
Her poetry took advantage of classic Greek mythology and modern psychoanalysis. H.D. was openly bisexual after her marriage failed in 1938 and worked with Sigmund Freud for a while as she explored her own sexuality.
In addition to her multitude of poems, H.D. Also penned several novels, some of which were published posthumously. Of her poetry collections, her first Sea Gardens published in 1916 remains an important work in the Imagist movement in which H.D. played a key role.
H.D. was not making any particularly big waves during her lifetime. It was really the feminist and pride movements of the 1970s that saw a revival of her work, reviewing H.D.’s dissection of gender roles and sexuality.
Baia
H.D.
I should have thought
in a dream you would have brought
some lovely, perilous thing,
orchids piled in a great sheath,
as who would say (in a dream),
"I send you this,
who left the blue veins
of your throat unkissed."
Why was it that your hands
(that never took mine),
your hands that I could see
drift over the orchid-heads
so carefully,
your hands, so fragile, sure to lift
so gently, the fragile flower-stuff--
ah, ah, how was it
You never sent (in a dream)
the very form, the very scent,
not heavy, not sensuous,
but perilous--perilous--
of orchids, piled in a great sheath,
and folded underneath on a bright scroll,
some word:
Flower sent to flower;
for white hands, the lesser white,
less lovely of flower-leaf,
or
Lover to lover, no kiss,
no touch, but forever and ever this.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is September 9th, Monday, and today I’m coming to you from Tejakula, Bali.
Today is the birthday of Colonel Harland David Sanders, American businessman, founder of KFC.
Sanders was born in 1890 in southern Indiana, not far from the Indiana-Kentucky state line. His mother was a devout Christian and it was perhaps her warnings about the evils of drink that led Sanders to be vehemently against alcohol consumption his whole life. (Her preaching against cursing, however, did no good.)
Sanders’s father died when he was just five and as the oldest child, he was quickly made a helping hand in the home. By age seven he was adept in the kitchen.
After bouncing around jobs in his teens and twenties and even his thirties, Sanders finally settled down a little bit around age 40 with his family in Kentucky. He already had experience in sales and business which helped served up success in his new restaurant venture.
Sanders’s “Colonel” title is not from any military service - rather, it is a title bestowed on him by the state of Kentucky. In the mid-1930s Sanders received his first “Colonel” for good deeds in his Kentucky community. He donated food, helped in a few midwifing incidents, and volunteered to drive some of his fellow townsfolk to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.
With the success of his local Kentucky restaurant, Kentucky again “Colonel’ed” Sanders and this time Sanders began using the title regularly, particularly as he began to promote his Kentucky Fried Chicken recipe.
For a snarky, well-written article on the life of Colonel Sanders and KFC, see the link in today’s show notes.
Today is the birthday of Mary Hunter Austin, American poet.
She took a special interest in the Native American peoples living in the Mojave Desert. Her poetry generally reflects life in the California expanse and celebrates the wildlife and delicate ecosystem of the area.
Mary Austin was active in the California Water Wars, particularly in Owens Valley where she lived. As Los Angeles extended its reach into surrounding counties for more water to meet its exploding population, the city preyed upon the watershed in Owens Valley. They effectively bullied their way to the water, disrupting the small communities and driving out farmers and residents who were left with few options but to move.
When she found herself on the losing side of the California Water Wars….
Mary Austin relocated to Carmel-by-the-Sea in California, joining a community of writers and artists. She produced a fair amount of work there, however it was her home in Santa Fe where she would be the most inspired and productive. Two of her most well known works include a collaboration with Ansel Adams and her collection The Land of Little Rain.
The Gods of the Saxon
Mary Hunter Austin
We have set the White Christ forward, we have bid the old gods go,
We be Christians, Christian peoples, singing psalm tunes staid and slow.
We have strewn the graven idols, we are bounden to the Lord,
In hoc signo it is written -- but we prove it with the sword.
For the old gods played us hazards, and they tracked us in their wrath
By the smoke of sacrifices that we made along our path;
Saved us to outwit each other; broke us if they listed, then,
And at best of all their saving they were gods, and we were men.
But the White Christ he is lowly, he hath thorns about his brow,
He hath sorrowed, he hath suffered, -- Lord, what boots thy sorrow now?
Seeing that we give our brother to the kite-kind and the crow,
And the shell-strewn bones to whiten where the shy wild cattle go.
And the old gods gather, gather where the shrilling bugles break,
For the hot blown breath of battle fans the elder gods awake,
Calling high above the trumpets, saying, 'Thus the old rune runs,
By the net that took the fathers ye shall surely snare the sons.
'By the bitter lust of empire, by the fret of boasts withstood,
By the itch of prideful peoples that must make their boastings good,
In the fern damp, by the veldt-side, we have brought them stark and low,
They that wake no more for mornings, nor for any winds that blow.'
We be Christians, Christian peoples, thinking scorn of ruder days,
But above the Pax Vobiscum, keener than the prayers we raise,
Come the jeering gods of warfare from the ends of all the earth,
By the White Christ, wan and wounded, and they mock him with their mirth.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is September 6th, Friday, and today I’m coming to you from Tejakula, Bali in Indonesia.
Today is the birthday of Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, French military leader and political influencer. Lafayette, as he is known in the States, was instrumental in the American Revolutionary War and the French Revolution both in the second half of the 1700s.
The first part of Lafayette’s life was of true comfort. He was born to wealthy aristocratic parents in 1757. His upbringing and education were balanced and with a long line of military men before him, Lafayette developed a healthy taste for action. (His father died in battle when Lafayette was a month away from 2 years old.)
At 16 he was betrothed to 14-year-old Adrienne de Noailles and they married soon thereafter.
Around age 18 Lafayette became a believer in the American Revolution. He came to see the cause as a noble one - the colonies were fighting for justice against a greedy Britain. As a French aristocrat, Lafayette likely already had a deeply entrenched sense of contempt for the British nation.
Going against a royal decree, Lafayette traveled to America to join the fight against the British. His military training would prove invaluable for the Americans and he was present at a number of important Revolutionary battles including the final Battle of Yorktown.
And today is the birthday of Zelia Nuttall, American anthropologist and archaeologist.
Despite what may seem like a nerdy description, Nuttall was a force. She was born to an Irish father and Mexican-American mother in San Francisco in 1857.
After a lengthy education in Europe, Nuttall discovered a fascination with MesoAmerica in a visit to Mexico in 1884. Her clear passion and excitement for the history of native peoples in Mexico shone through in a paper about a grouping of Mexican artifacts. The publication impressed the archaeology community so much that Nuttall was given a position at Harvard University as the Special Assistant of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology.
Nuttall would come to love Mexico and its history so much that she moved there permanently. She continued archaeological and anthropological work even though she was rarely paid for it. She did find a benefactor in Phoebe Hearst, mother of William Randolph Hearst, who funded a number of her projects.
Nuttall work on Mexico’s ancient history served to give a newfound pride to the nation and helped to dispel popular but negative narratives of MesoAmericans.
To Fayette
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
As when far off the warbled strains are heard
That soar on Morning's wing the vales among,
Within his cage th' imprison'd matin bird
Swells the full chorus with a generous song:
He bathes no pinion in the dewy light,
No Father's joy, no Lover's bliss he shares,
Yet still the rising radiance cheers his sight—
His Fellows' freedom soothes the Captive's cares!
Thou, FAYETTE! who didst wake with startling voice
Life's better sun from that long wintry night,
Thus in thy Country's triumphs shalt rejoice
And mock with raptures high in the dungeon's might:
For lo! the morning struggles into day,
And Slavery's spectres shriek and vanish from the ray!
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely weekend.
Links:
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The date is September 5th, Thursday, and today I’m traveling from Jakarta to Bali in Indonesia.
Today is the birthday of Robert Fergusson, Scottish poet.
He enrolled at the University of St Andrews in Scotland in 1765 at the age of about 15. While there, Fergusson narrowly escaped expulsion, made important connections and honed his writing skills. When his father passed away in 1768 he moved back home to help support his mother.
He got involved in the bohemian scene in Edinburgh and began contributing poems to a small weekly periodical. He wrote poems both in English and “Scots.”
Scottish bard Robert Burns cites Fergusson as a major influence on his own work, inspiring him to write in both English and “Scots” as well. Burns even paid for a new headstone for Fergusson’s burial plot.
Fergusson achieved his legacy in a very short time - he died in 1775 at the age of 24. He was involuntarily sent to a mental hospital after a fall left him with a concussion. He lasted just a few weeks at the asylum. (Perhaps his sudden and suspicious death helped bring attention to his work?)
And today is the birthday of Amy Beach, American composer and pianist.
Although Amy was something of a child prodigy, her parents tried not to indulge her too much in her desire to perform, believing that seceding to her demands would spoil her. They did allow her to receive proper training as she matured, and her career as an exacting pianist began when she was just 16 with a performance at the Boston Music Hall.
In 1885 at age 18, Amy married 42-year-old Dr. H.H.A. Beach. It was his second marriage. Dr. Beach was apparently encouraging toward Mary in her music, but ultimately the union stunted the growth of her performance career. At the time, it was frowned upon for married women to perform musically unless for charity’s sake. Amy Beach then turned her attention toward composing.
Beach’s composing ability was largely self-taught. Dr. Beach disapproved of her having a private tutor, and so Mrs. Beach read as many books as she could on the subject. Her first score came in 1892 with a public performance of her Mass in E-flat Major. It was a hit with critics who compared Beach to Bach.
Beach’s Gaelic Symphony was her next piece. It was the first symphony composed and published by an American woman. The Boston Symphony gave a performance of the piece in 1896. The symphony gained her a reputation as an unofficial “one of the boys” of the unofficial Second New England School and the sixth member of the Boston Six. Four years later, Beach performed as the pianist in her own Piano Concerto with the Boston Symphony.
The success of her compositions saw Amy performing more. Beach performed her own compositions in Boston, Philadelphia, New York, and Chicago to delighted audiences.
With the death of Dr. Beach in 1910 and her mother several months later, Amy sank into a depression. She headed for Europe hoping to distract herself.
While in Europe, she recovered from her melancholia and began to play and compose again. She was a favorite in Germany and wrote numerous compositions there. However, she wouldn’t have access to them until 1929 when her suitcase which had been confiscated at her departure in 1914 (the start of WWI), was finally released to her.
Returning to America, Beach published more of her compositions and received a decent income off the sales of her work. Later in life she then turned toward mentorship, hoping to help other female musicians, composers, and conductors make their way through the changing music scene.
Amy Beach passed away in 1944 at the age of 77.
A Burlesque Elegy
Robert Fergusson
On the Amputation of a Student’s hair, before his Orders.
O sad catastrophe! event most dire!
How shall the loss, the heavy loss, be borne?
Or how the muse attune the plaintive lyre,
To sing of Strephon with his ringlets shorn?
Say, ye who can divine the mighty cause
From whence this modern circumcision springs,
Why such oppressive and such rigid laws
Are still attendant on religious things?
Alas, poor Strephon ! to the stern decree
Which prunes your tresses, are you doom'd to yield?
Soon shall your caput, like the blasted tree,
Diffuse its faded honours o'er the field.
Now let the solemn sounds of mourning swell,
And wake sad echoes to prolong the lay;
For, hark! methinks I hear the tragic knell;
This hour bespeaks the barber on his way.
O razor! yet thy poignant edge suspend;
O yet indulge me with a short delay;
Till I once more pourtray my youthful friend,
Ere his proud locks are scatter'd on the clay.
Ere the huge wig, in formal curls array'd
With pulvile pregnant, shall o'ershade his face;
Or, like the wide umbrella, lend its aid
To banish lustre from the sacred place.
Mourn, O ye zephyrs! for, alas! no more
His waving ringlets shall your call obey!
For, ah! the stubborn wig must now be wore,
Since Strephon's locks are scatter'd on the clay.
Amanda, too, in bitter anguish sighs,
And grieves the metamorphosis to see.
Mourn not, Amanda, for the hair that lies
Dead on the ground shall be revived for thee.
Some skilful artist of a French frizeur,
With graceful rinklets shall thy temples bind,
And cull the precious relics from the floor,
Which yet may flutter in the wanton wind.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is September 4th, Wednesday, and today I’m coming to you from Jakarta, Indonesia.
On this day in 1781, 44 Spanish settlers officially founded El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora La Reina de los Ángeles, known today as Los Angeles, California.
Compared to other settlements, los Ángeles was specifically a municipal settlement: not a Catholic mission base or strategic military settlement. It was the second pueblo in the Spanish colonization of Alta California, just after San Jose.
The settlers were recruited from other settlements in the area with a promise of large plots of land. Per the ordinances set out by the Spanish government on how to create new towns, the main town center roads were constructed from SW to NE and NW to SE – so in an x rather than a plus-sign. To this day Downtown Los Angeles streets maintain 45-degree angles.
Los Angeles remained a Spanish settlement for about 40 years until it became a part of Mexico with Mexican independence in 1821. Los Angeles and Alta California changed hands again in 1847 when Mexico was defeated by America in the Mexican-American war.
Now part of America, Los Angeles saw its rise as a Southwestern mecca with the completion of the Southern Pacific rail line in 1876 and the discovery of oil in 1892. 20 years later, Hollywood’s booming movie industry proved to be a substantial draw for those seeking work. In 1932 the city hosted the Summer Olympics, and with the advent of WWII Los Angeles became a major manufacturing hub and military and shipping port.
With a mild, sunny, Mediterranean-like climate and what seemed like endless job opportunities in a variety of fields, Los Angeles saw its population more than double from the end of WWII to 1990.
From a small criss-crossed settlement, Los Angeles has become the second largest metropolis in the United States and is perhaps the definition of urban sprawl. In Los Angeles, there is a bit of everything for everyone.
And today is the birthday of Mary Renault, English-South African writer.
Born Eileen Mary Challans in 1905 in England, Mary graduated from college in 1928 with a degree in English. However, at the onset of WWII, Mary found herself signing up to train as a nurse. She determined she would write in her spare time.
While in training, Mary met fellow nurse Julie Mullard. It was soon clear that there was an attraction between the two. Mary and Julie began a romantic relationship that would last their whole lives.
Renault’s first novel Purposes of Love (1939) is based on her time working as a nurse. But it is her novel The Friendly Young Ladies (1943) published four years later and also based on her experience as a nurse, that is more autobiographical. The main will-they-won’t-they couple is lesbian compared to the straight couple in her first novel.
Although Renault’s historical fictions were her most widely read work, it was her novel Return to Night that won a prize from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios. The award amount was $150,000 or about $1.6 million in today’s dollars. With the winnings, Mary and Julie moved to an open-minded expat community in South Africa.
Renault has been hailed in the LGBTQ community for inclusions of gay and lesbian couples in her work. In particular, her Greek historical fiction novels depicted homosexual relationships between men. A product of her own time, Renault herself was unsure about the pride movements of the ‘70s. She did not think of herself as a “gay writer” and preferred not to be defined by her sexual orientation.
Your World
Georgia Douglas Johnson
Your world is as big as you make it.
I know, for I used to abide
In the narrowest nest in a corner,
My wings pressing close to my side.
But I sighted the distant horizon
Where the skyline encircled the sea
And I throbbed with a burning desire
To travel this immensity.
I battered the cordons around me
And cradled my wings on the breeze,
Then soared to the uttermost reaches
With rapture, with power, with ease!
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is September 3rd, Tuesday, and today I’m traveling from Tokyo, Japan to Jakarta, Indonesia.
Today is the birthday of Lev Semenovich Pontryagin, Soviet mathematician.
In 1922 or ‘23 at age 14, an explosion of a small cooking stove left Lev Pontryagin blind. His parents were not well-off by any means, but his mother, Tat'yana Andreevna, insisted Lev continue his studies. She dedicated herself to helping Pontryagin adjust to his new situation as blind. In particular, she would read to him from his textbooks and write down his answers to equations on homework. She grew to know the course materials so well she would sometimes correct his work, which naturally had mistakes, as he honed his abstract thinking skills.
Eventually, Pontryagin left home for college. Pontryagin did not take notes in his classes since of course he could not see. However, his professors soon noticed he had an outstanding mind. Pontryagin was able to memorize formulas and perform equations in his head, impressing professors and students alike. He graduated from the University of Moscow in 1929 at the age of 20 and immediately was offered a position at the University.
As a professor and researcher, Pontryagin made significant contributions to mathematics, specifically in algebraic and differential topology. He enjoyed a long career at Steklov Institute in Russia and was a member of the Academy of Sciences (in France) as well as the International Mathematical Union.
And today is the birthday of Sarah Orne Jewett, American writer.
Jewett was known during her lifetime primarily for her short stories. She was born in 1849 in South Berwick, ME, a small town in southern Maine, a short distance from Portsmouth.
As a child she was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. Her father, the town’s doctor, prescribed walks outdoors as treatment, and so Jewett developed a deep love of nature and her small town.
The Country of the Pointed Firs remains Jewett’s most significant work. It is a novella primarily exaulted for its description of local country life rather than its quiet plot. Similar to her other short stories and writings, The Country of the Pointed Firs was first published in serialized form in The Atlantic Monthly in 1896, when Jewett was 46.
Jewett, like fellow New England writer Katherine Lee Bates, engaged in what was known as a “Boston marriage.” She never married, but lived with close friend and widow Annie Fields from 1881 until Jewett’s death in 1909.
Despite being known as a writer of American literary regionalism (writing and celebrating small towns, rather than big-city life), Jewett was well traveled. She enjoyed an extended trip to Europe with her companion Annie Fields, and the pair frequented nearby Boston, where they hosted gatherings of popular and indie American and European writers.
At Home from Church
Sarah Orne Jewett
The lilacs lift in generous bloom
Their plumes of dear old-fashioned flowers;
Their fragrance fills the still old house
Where left alone I count the hours.
High in the apple-trees the bees
Are humming, busy in the sun,—
An idle robin cries for rain
But once or twice and then is done.
The Sunday-morning quiet holds
In heavy slumber all the street,
While from the church, just out of sight
Behind the elms, comes slow and sweet
The organ’s drone, the voices faint
That sing the quaint long-meter hymn—
I somehow feel as if shut out
From some mysterious temple, dim
And beautiful with blue and red
And golden lights from windows high,
Where angels in the shadows stand
And earth seems very near the sky.
The day-dream fades—and so I try
Again to catch the tune that brings
No thought of temple nor of priest,
But only of a voice that sings.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is August 29th, Thursday, and today I’m coming to you from Portland, OR.
Today is the birthday of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr, American physician and writer.
Born in 1809, he had the good fortunate to attend small but good schools in Boston. From a young age, Holmes was noted as a very talkative lad. It was the only sticking point for his secondary school teachers, who admired his quick mind.
At sixteen Holmes enrolled at Harvard University. He carried on his love for reading and chatting by joining the “Puffmaniacs” a group of students who would sit around talking about all manner of things while smoking, presumably, pipes.
Struggling in his law studies some years later, Holmes occupied himself with writing poetry. He discovered he rather had a knack for it. By 1830 he had become a well-known and in-demand poet in a young America.
However, Holmes ultimately settled on a career in medicine and wrote in his free time. He was often called upon to compose poems for special occasions and so felt he was a “florist of verse.” He knew invitations came with the expectation that he would read a relevant poem of his own creation.
Along with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, John Whittier, James Lowell, and William Bryant, Holmes is known as a Fireside Poet. His poems generally used conventional rhymes, a strong sense of rhythm, and wholesome “family-friendly” subjects.
And today is the birthday of Vivien Thomas, African American medical researcher and assistant surgeon.
The grandson of a slave, Vivien Thomas had dreams of becoming a doctor. However, the Great Depression in 1929 thwarted his plans of a medical degree. He stopped taking classes at what is now known as Tennessee State University and instead found work as a lab assistant to surgeon Alfred Blalock at Vanderbilt University. Although he was classified as and paid like a janitor, by the mid-1930s, Thomas was doing the work of a postdoc under the tutelage of Blalock.
When Blalock accepted a position at John Hopkins, he insisted that Thomas be hired along with him. At John Hopkins, Blalock and Thomas were approached by Helen Taussig to develop a procedure that would save newborns with blue baby syndrome. Blalock directed Thomas to begin experimenting with procedures on dogs.
After Thomas completed a number of successful surgeries on dogs, Blalock was confident that a similar procedure would work on affected babies. Of course, this is an oversimplification of what was a harrowing effort, but suffice it to say that Blalock, Thomas, and Taussig succeeded in understanding the problems of blue baby syndrome and finding the first surgical procedure to cure the condition.
A colleague of Blalock's at John Hopkins, Dr. J. Alex Haller, remembered, "Dr. Blalock once said that Vivien Thomas' hands were more important to him in the development of the blue-baby operation than his own -- and he meant it."
The Last Leaf
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
I saw him once before,
As he passed by the door,
And again
The pavement stones resound,
As he totters o’er the ground
With his cane.
They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found
By the Crier on his round
Through the town.
But now he walks the streets,
And looks at all he meets
Sad and wan,
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
“They are gone.”
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest
In their bloom,
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.
My grandmamma has said—
Poor old lady, she is dead
Long ago—
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow;
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff,
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is August 22nd, Thursday, and today I’m coming to you from Portland, OR.
Today is the birthday of Ray Bradbury, American author. Bradbury is best remembered for his novel Fahrenheit 451.
When Ray was 14, the Bradbury family moved to Los Angeles from their small town in Illinois. Ray’s father had been out of work and was searching in booming Southern California.
When his father came home one day and announced he’d found a steady full-time job, Ray was ecstatic. The young Bradbury had already fallen in love with Hollywood.
Bradbury was an avid reader of science fiction and fantasy and a regular at book stores and libraries. In high school he was active in the poetry club and drama club, as many are wont to do in Los Angeles.
Graduating high school during the Great Depression, Bradbury admits that the family simply didn’t have money to send him to college. In lieu of university, Bradbury claims to have gone to the library 3 times a week for 10 years post-graduation.
When he was disqualified from serving in the US forces due to poor eyesight, Bradbury doubled down on devoting himself full-time to writing.
Bradbury’s first novel, The Martian Chronicles, was written out of necessity. He and his wife Maggie were expecting their first child. Bradbury was consistently publishing short stories, but with a baby on the way, the couple was going to need a larger income.
Bradbury took a bus from Los Angeles to New York City in order to find a publisher for his short stories. After being turned down by more than ten publishers, he found hope in a meeting with an editor at Doubleday. The editor told Bradbury that short stories weren’t going to get him very far - he needed a novel to show around. Bradbury did not have a novel. The editor then suggested that Bradbury put together a bunch of his short stories in a collection about life on Mars.
That night, in his room at a YMCA in NYC, Bradbury typed up an outline for what would become The Martian Chronicles. He stayed up all night and showed the outline to the Doubleday editor the next day. The Doubleday editor gave Bradbury $750 as an advance.
Over the course of Bradbury’s 70 year career, he wrote over 600 short stories and published 27 novels and collections of his work. Fahrenheit 451 remains Bradbury’s best-selling book, with an estimated 10 million copies in circulation. More on Fahrenheit 451 in October on the anniversary of its first publication date.
Today is the birthday of Claude Debussy, French composer. Debussy most popular tune is “Clair de Lune,” third movement of Suite bergamasque, which he composed in 1890 at the age of 32.
Despite having undeniable talent on the piano Debussy received mixed reviews from his instructors at the Conservatoire de Paris. Some labeled him an excellent student, attentive to direction, where others found him lazy and defiant. He was eventually disqualified from the piano department on account of failing his piano performances. However, he was able to remain at the Conservatoire and enrolled in harmony and composition courses.
A mentor helped Debussy find summer work as a private piano player for a wealthy household. Debussy quickly found that he wouldn’t mind living in such splendor. Another summer he was placed at the home of Nadezhda (nu-desj-dah) von Meck the patron of Tchaikovsky.
Debussy spent his 20s and 30s finding his own musical voice. His compositions showed promise and he was well regarded by fellow composers and musicians. However, his more “bohemian” style had yet to be widely accepted. At age 40 in 1902, his operatic rendition of the play Pelléas et Mélisande (Pellia(s) e Mill-e-sand(r)a) gained him acceptance into the international music scene.
For more on Debussy, see today’s show notes or visit our website wellbredandwellbrewed.com.
Debussy was a certified romantic. He fell hard and fast for talented female conversationalists, whether they were married or not. A few of his personal affairs in his 20s and 30s were possibly the reason he didn’t make it big sooner. They were chiefly a distraction to Debussy who appears to be prone to obsession.
His final affair with a married Emma Bardac would result in her divorcing her first husband and marrying Debussy. The couple was forced to flee Paris for London for a time while the drama cooled. They had a daughter together, Debussy’s only child.
In London, Debussy’s work, including compositions from his 20s and 30s, began to gain recognition and his reputation flourished. Sadly, he also was diagnosed with colorectal cancer. A surgery in 1915 stopped the pain temporarily, but Debussy would succumb to the cancer three years later in 1918. He was 55.
I Saw in Louisiana a Live-Oak Growing
Walt Whitman
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak growing,
All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches,
Without any companion it grew there uttering joyous leaves of dark green,
And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself,
But I wonder’d how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone there without its friend near, for I knew I could not,
And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it, and twined around it a little moss,
And brought it away, and I have placed it in sight in my room,
It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends,
(For I believe lately I think of little else than of them,)
Yet it remains to me a curious token, it makes me think of manly love;
For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana solitary in a wide flat space,
Uttering joyous leaves all its life without a friend a lover near,
I know very well I could not.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is August 13th, Tuesday, and today I’m coming to you from Rochester, NY.
Today is the birthday of Don Ho, Hawaiian-American musician. Don was born in Hawaii and joined the Air Force in 1954 at age 23, just a few years after marrying his high school sweetheart.
Don and his wife Melva moved to California per Don’s job in the Air Force. While there, he picked up an electronic keyboard to accompany his voice. (He had already done a bit of singing as a young man at his Mom’s bar in Hawaii.)
Not many years later Don Ho left the Air Force and returned to Hawaii to take care of his ailing mother and her bar, Honey’s. Soon, Don found himself performing as the headliner for the bar. As his popularity as an entertainer spread, Don was asked to headline at another bar, Duke’s. Duke’s was a popular spot for celebrities and executives on vacation and Don would be ‘discovered’ by a music agent there.
Don Ho signed with Reprise Records and would go on to have a successful career over multiple decades. He was able to capitalize on the wave of tourists from America to the newest state in the union (Hawaii). He became a pop icon and, in addition to his own short-lived variety show, Don Ho made appearances on TV shows such as I Dream of Jeannie, The Brady Bunch, Batman, and Charlie's Angels.
Despite a persona as an “easygoing romantic rogue,” Don Ho remained married to his high school sweetheart Melva until her death in 1990. Don Ho passed away in 2007.
(Today is also the birthday of Giovanni Agnelli, Sr., Italian co-founder of Fiat. For more on him visit our official website.)
And today is the birthday of Annie Oakley, American sharpshooter.
Born on the plains of America in 1860, Annie had a hard life. Annie’s father died when she was just six. A few years later, destitute and desperate, her mother “rented” nine-year-old Annie as a servant to a well-to-do but cruel family. The arrangement lasted a grueling two years.
When Annie returned home she began to trap and hunt. At first, it was simply a means of survival: her hunting put food on the table. But then, as her talent developed, Annie used it to bring in money. She would sell whatever the family couldn’t eat, first, to local shops, then found a vendor who would sell her catches to hotels and restaurants in the large towns and cities of Ohio. With the income, Annie was able to feed her siblings and even helped her mother pay off the mortgage on their home.
Annie’s career as an entertainer started when she entered into a shooting contest with two traveling frontiersmen. Frank Butler placed a bet that he could shoot better than any local marksman. A resident Hotelier took him up on that bet and presented five-foot, fifteen-year-old Annie Oakley as his competition. Oakley won, impressing Butler who began to court her. The two married a year later.
Throughout her successful and well-paid career, Annie and her husband donated to charity. Annie was adamant that women should learn to use guns as a means to protect themselves from preadators, particularly given the lawlessness of the West at the time.
Annie Oakley was a powerful image for young girls in the first decades of the 1900s. She advocated for women to receive more independence and education and is the undisputed inspiration for the image of the “cowgirl.” She used her story as proof that women were as capable as men when given the same opportunities.
Amores (II)
e.e. cummings
in the rain-
darkness, the sunset
being sheathed i sit and
think of you
the holy
city which is your face
your little cheeks the streets
of smiles
your eyes half-
thrush
half-angel and your drowsy
lips where float flowers of kiss
and
there is the sweet shy pirouette
your hair
and then
your dancesong
soul. rarely-beloved
a single star is
uttered,and i
think
of you
Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
The date is July 31th, Wednesday, and today I’m still traveling to Boston, Massachusetts.
Today is the birthday of Ahmet Ertegun, Turkish-American founder of Atlantic Records.
Ahmet was born in Istanbul, Turkey in 1923. His father was a successful lawyer and his mother a skilled musician. She played the piano and a number of stringed instruments and indulged in records. Ahmet and his brother Nesuhi were admittedly spoiled by their unimpeded access to the music from the top musicians and bands of the day.
Ahmet proclaimed he truly fell in love with music at age 9. While in London with his family, Ahmet’s brother Nesuhi dragged him to a concert to see Duke Ellington, Cab Calloway, and their respective bands play at the Palladium Theater. Ahmet was in awe of the performers and their sound.
In 1935, Ahmet’s father became the Turkish Ambassador to the United States and the family moved to Washington, D.C.. Ertegun joked that despite attending an affluent private high school and then Georgetown, he “got [his] real education at Howard.” (Meaning Howard University, the historically black University in Washington, D.C.). Although he didn’t share the exact same ethnic heritage, Ertegun felt a kinship with the African American community. When traveling in Europe his family often met with discrimination due to their Muslim background.
While in college at Georgetown he worked at a record shop while taking in the music scene. Finally, he moved to New York, not knowing exactly what he would do, but determined to be entrenched in the music scene.
In 1947, with $10000 borrowed from his family dentist, Ertegun and partner Herb Abramson started Atlantic Records. Atlantic was to be the premiere independent label for jazz, gospel, and R&B.
It was a rocky start. Ertegun was still honing his skills as a talent scout and producer and missed out on stars that would be big. It took 22 records before their independent label finally found commercial success.
Ertegun did a bit of everything at Atlantic Records in the beginning. He scouted new talent, wrote songs, produced the music, and sometimes hopped on a track as a back-up singer.
Atlantic Records would sign the likes of Ray Charles and Coltrane and was one of the first labels to record in stereo sound.
From humble beginnings in an office in a old crumbling hotel, Ertegun helped to grow Atlantic Records into a premiere independent music label. Atlantic stock was ultimately sold to Warner Bro.s in the 1970s, though Ertegun remained active in the company for another 20 years. And of course, he would frequent jazz clubs and concerts until his dying day.
The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd
Sir Walter Raleigh
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.
Time drives the flocks from field to fold
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.
The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten--
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.
But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host, Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.
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