As a kid, my grandparents, and millions of other viewers rarely missed an episode of the television program “All in the Family.” For those too young to know, Norman Lear’s aboriginal must-see TV hilariously highlighted the friction between the nineteen-sixties’ “progressive” generation and their parents via the bigoted, but strangely lovable, character of Archie Bunker. I suspect most of its viewers shared more in common with Archie’s prejudices than they wanted to admit, but laughing at him allowed one to take the first step towards changing one’s own biases, whether one knew it or not.
I like to imagine that my grandparents were always progressive, tolerant people in favor of things we now take for granted, but I know that’s probably wishful thinking. I’m not even sure about myself in this regard. Fortunately, we humans are incessant editors, never happy with the first draft of anything. This tendency towards revision can cause problems, though. For example, most memories I have of my daughter as a baby have been systematically and irrationally replaced by a mental image of how she appears now—an eight-year-old—because I simply can’t believe she was ever so small. In fact, when she was born, one of my friends, while cradling her fragile seven pounds, couldn’t believe it then, saying, “God, why don’t we just die the second we’re born? We’re so delicate and vulnerable!” My wife’s mother, who was visiting, didn’t miss a beat: “It’s mothers, honey. It’s our job to make sure that never happens.” Well, score one for Moms, I thought.
Now that the numbers are in on same-sex marriage, many Republicans are falling like dominos all over themselves to express their support for something that only a few months ago they steadfastly claimed to stand against. They’ll probably soon claim that this is how they felt all along, and they were simply too hamstrung by politics to be able to say what they really meant. Well, okay. In the spirit of openheartedness and what life is really all about, I’ll go so far as to say that the fear of others may mask some deep-seated desire to understand, and maybe even to love. Because really, what is there to be afraid of? Few people today don’t know—or have in their families—at least one loving couple who are raising children, same-sex or not. And it’s really just the loving part that matters. That same-sex marriage could go from its preliminary draft of “diagnosable” to the final edit of “so what?” must indicate some positive evolution on the part of the larger human consciousness. My wife, being a biology teacher, puts it even more succinctly: “Why are all these people so worried about who everybody else is sleeping with, anyway?” (Score two for Moms.)
So, a final draft: happy Mothers’ Day, moms. We are grateful to, and love, you all.
Here Comes Peter Cottontail is a 1971 Easter television special made by Rankin-Bass, based on a 1957 novel by Priscilla and Otto Friedrich entitled The Easter Bunny That Overslept. The title of the special is from the Easter song “Here Comes Peter Cottontail”, which is also heard in the special. The name “Peter Cottontail” comes from a series of books by Thornton W. Burgess (1874–1965), although the special is not based directly on his books. It was originally broadcast on ABC-TV, and in later years, appeared on CBS.
Patti Smith Group – Easter (1978)
Easter Sunday, we were walking.
Easter Sunday, we were talking.
Isabel, my little one, take my hand. Time has come.
Isabella, all is glowing.
Isabella, all is knowing.
And my heart, Isabella.
And my head, Isabella.
Frederick and Vitalie, savior dwells inside of thee.
Oh, the path leads to the sun. Brother, sister, time has come.
Isabella, all is glowing.
Isabella, all is knowing.
Isabella, we are dying.
Isabella, we are rising.
I am the spring, the holy ground,
the endless seed of mystery,
the thorn, the veil, the face of grace,
the brazen image, the thief of sleep,
the ambassador of dreams, the prince of peace.
I am the sword, the wound, the stain.
Scorned transfigured child of Cain.
I rend, I end, I return.
Again I am the salt, the bitter laugh.
I am the gas in a womb of light, the evening star,
the ball of sight that leads that sheds the tears of Christ
dying and drying as I rise tonight.
Isabella, we are rising.
Isabella, we are rising . . .
flower and heart are equal. as one unfolds
the other is closing. the fist of charm.
the dance of fathoms. of voids. of veils.
layer after layer. wall after wall. there
is always more. there is always more after.
the scalloped edges of further valour.
the vigil of soldiers. foot and circular.
the waving tremors of empty warriors.
a thorn in the wound of love. of torture.
another immeasurable pain to suffer.
first dealing w/entry into the spirit.
the wall is pierced and the will assaulted
is vaulted. is shimmied into. is fenced.
fencing defending the sheets of the flesh
winding and binding and then to relax.
seconds of suspension in the pass of pain
wailing, exhaling. passed thru the strange.
this is the formula. the force of the father.
the hand that extends. the heart that is bleeding
hard then harder then silent and beating.
in a space warm and glowing. infinite yet dense.
the tune of chain caught then stretched.
the is the communication of the future.
death is a dance. a ballroom. a glove
an extension of total abandon in/love.
“Tusk” is a song by Fleetwood Mac from the 1979 double LP of the same name. The song reached #8 on the U.S. charts, #6 in the U.K. and #3 in Australia and Canada. It was one of the first songs to be released using a digital mixdown from an original analog source.
Looking for a title track for the as yet unnamed album, Mick Fleetwood suggested that they take the rehearsal riff that Lindsey Buckingham used for sound-checks. Producers Richard Dashut and Ken Caillat hence created a drum-driven production.
The single was recorded live together with the supporting video at Dodger Stadium (without an audience) in Los Angeles, California in collaboration with the University of Southern California Trojan Marching Band. The performance was also filmed for the song’s music video. John McVie was in Tahiti during the Dodger Stadium recording, but he is represented in the video by a cardboard cutout carried around by Mick Fleetwood and later positioned in the stands with the other band members.
The band’s part would both set a record for the highest number of musicians performing on a single and earn the marching musicians a platinum disc. Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks and Mick Fleetwood presented it to the Trojan band on October 4, 1980 during a game at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, this time in front of a huge crowd. The song was also performed live during Fleetwood Mac’s concert in 1997 in conjunction with the USC Band.
The single was released with two different picture sleeves in many territories: The first featured the black and white picture of producer/engineer Ken Caillat’s dog Scooter snapping at a trouser leg, the same as that used for the album cover, whilst the second featured a plain cover with the same font as the album cover but without the dog picture. A very limited promotional 12-inch version, featuring mono and stereo versions, was also released to US radio stations.
vintage easter FUN with Pier Angeli, Snoopy, Doris Day, Bunnies, Chicks and a “GAY” Easter Cake Recipe!
Chet Baker – tp, Lars Gullin – bs, Glauco Masetti – as, Romano Mussolini – p, Franco Cerri – b, Jimmy Pratt – dr. Torino, Italy 1959
When most queers think of important dates in the gay calendar, Pride is probably the first one that jumps to mind. Halloween is perhaps not far behind. But very few of us remember, or have ever heard of, the first official gay and lesbian holiday in Canada: Pink Triangle Day.
Declared at the 1979 conference of the long-gone national organization Canadian Lesbian And Gay Rights Coalition (CLGRC), Pink Triangle Day commemorates the first major legal victory for Canada’s queer rights movement. On that day in 1979, three officers of Pink Triangle Press (the company that publishes Xtra) were acquitted of indecency charges stemming from the article “Men Loving Boys Loving Men,” published in the Dec 1977/Jan 1978 issue of The Body Politic.
Track #2 from the album Za Bakdaz: The Unfinished Opera.