Tuesday Tones

Looking across the Niagara River
Miranda (Lumix FZ1000ii)
f/7.1, 1/1000sec, ISO 250

Continuing our self-guided tour of classical music inspired by water, we have perhaps one of the two greatest works ever directly inspired by a river (well, maybe three, depending on how strongly we consider Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen to have been inspired by the Rhine). The other work will surely show up in this series, but for now, we’ll stick with Bedrich Smetana’s Vltava, known to English-speaking audiences as The Moldau.

The work opens with a quiet shimmering that evokes the flow of Vltava, the longest river in the Czech Republic. Written as part of a cycle of tone poems evoking Smetana’s homeland, called Ma Vlast (“My Fatherland”), Vltava is the most well-known of the group and is often performed on its own. Its main melody is one of the great tunes in all classical music, an earworm for the ages, but Smetana’s orchestration is marvelous throughout as he casts the work with sonic effects that evoke the flowing waters and the country through which it flows. Smetana himself wrote of the work:

“Two springs pour forth in the shade of the Bohemian Forest, one warm and gushing, the other cold and peaceful. The forest brook, hastening on, becomes the river Moldau. Through thick woods it flows, as the gay sounds of the hunt and the notes of the hunter’s horn are heard ever nearer. It flows through grass-grown pastures and lowlands where a wedding feast is celebrated with song and dance. At night, wood and water nymphs revel in its sparkling waves. Reflected on its surface are fortresses and castles — witnesses of bygone days of knightly splendor and the vanished glory of fighting times. At the St. John Rapids, the stream races ahead, winding through the cataracts, hewing out a path with its foaming waves through the rocky chasm into the broad riverbed — finally, flowing on in majestic peace toward Prague and welcomed by the time-honored castle Vyšehrad. Then it vanishes far beyond the poet’s gaze.”

Here is Vltava by Bedrich Smetana (in a particularly wonderful live performance).

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“When the waves turn minutes to hours”

Sunset over Lake Erie

Fifty years ago today, one of the most notorious maritime disasters in American history happened when the Edmund Fitzgerald, a mighty freighter of the Great Lakes, foundered and sank near the eastern end of Lake Superior. The story is well known, of course: the huge ship with the long and distinguished career, famous for being one of the biggest ships on the Great Lakes, and the way it sailed into one of the most ferocious storms in memory, finding itself in a more and more harrowing position, and striving against time to reach the relative safety of Whitefish Bay, and Captain McSorley’s haunting last radio message–“We are holding our own”–likely send just seconds, maybe minutes, before the ship went down with all hands.

The exact cause of the Edmund Fitzgerald‘s sinking has never been precisely determined. Can it be, at this point? I don’t know. It would likely take a lot more inspection of the wreckage on the bottom of Lake Superior, but there have been no expeditions to the ship in thirty years and I don’t imagine it’s exactly anyone’s priority. There are a number of theories: the ship’s hull might have been damaged when she hit a shoal, or the ship might have been swamped by a set of rogue waves that overwhelmed her. One account I once read (I can’t remember where, unfortunately) speculated that the Fitz encountered seas so violently rough that she plowed downward into the trough of a giant wave and then…kept plowing down. According to this account, the ship went straight down so fast that the engines were still running as it surged downward to the bottom. I find that prospect rather terrifying, to be honest. The Edmund Fitzgerald is haunting, I suspect, partly because its wreck is so unexplained and because it happened so quickly. This was no sinking, like the Titanic, that played out over an hour and a half and allowed for human dramas based on class to take place. The crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald had no time to think about their fate and to consider their impending mortality. The sinking was likely so quick that at least some of the crew didn’t know what was happening until they were already underwater.

Like all shipwrecks, large or small, the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald provides yet another data point supporting one of my favorite adages: “Nature always bats last.” No matter how strong the fruits of our industry may be, nature will always have the final say. It may take years and years, centuries even, but eventually nothing made by the hand of humans can withstand the forces of the universe. And if you want to see those forces in action, well, just go look on any of the Great Lakes.

I’ve lived near the Great Lakes, in one way or another, for most of my life. Except for the years we lived in Hillsboro, OR when I was a kid, one Great Lake or another has pretty much always been at most a few hours’ drive away. Of course, since 2000, I’ve lived minutes away from Lake Erie, a stretch broken only in the winter of 2002-2003 when we lived in Syracuse, closer to Lake Ontario. These waters are easy to take lightly…but they are what they are. They are inland seas, and any of the five are capable of plunging a ship to the depths with all on board.

Plaque honoring Gordon Lightfoot’s classic song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald“, on display at the Ripley Aquarium, Toronto, ON
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Here it comes! (A somewhat annual thought on snow and The 716)

As I write this, it is Sunday morning, 9 November 2025. Outside it is cold and cloudy and rainy, but according to the local weather predicting folk, that rain will be turning to snow later today, for our first actual snowfall of the 2025-2026 wintry-weather season. Now, longtime readers will know that I, for one, love the snow and the winter and I welcome our wintry overlords, but as happens every year, social media is alive with WNYers saying things like “Ugh, here it comes!” and “Stop saying the S-word!” (as if “snow” is the weather equivalent of “Lord Voldemort”).

I’m not going to lecture people as to why they should embrace the snow, but…yeah, I’m gonna do that, actually. Buffalo and WNY have a lot of problems and there are many things that need to happen if this region is ever to truly rebound, and this one probably isn’t the most important one on the list, but I quite firmly believe that self-image matters, and the degree to which the people of a region communicate their love of their region matters. And like it or not, snow is a big part of living here. It just is. And I don’t think it sends a great message to the rest of the country if a lot of people living here seem to convey that for at least a quarter of the year (and, I’ll be honest, as much as a third of the year), they’d rather be living someplace else.

So once again, Buffalo, let’s embrace the snow. Let’s make it a positive part of our identity instead of making it sound like the “mushy peas” part of our year. Let’s embrace warm clothes and colorful sweaters and fuzzy hats and hot beverages and winter wonderlands, shall we? It’s coming anyway.

DISCLAIMER: I reserve the right to complain about any snow that arrives after St. Patrick’s Day. I have adopted March 17 as my personal cut-off point.

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It wasn’t me. I have an alibi.

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A quick and random thought about Josh Allen

The Buffalo Bills beat the Kansas City Chiefs last week, which they do just about every season when they play each other. But the last bunch of years, when the two teams have met again in the playoffs, the Chiefs have won. Two of those have come in the AFC Championship Game, and one of them is one of the most notorious playoff games in NFL history, the epic shootout in which the Bills took a 36-33 lead with 13 seconds left in the 4th quarter, but somehow they allowed the Chiefs to get to field goal range in those 13 seconds, tying the game and sending it to overtime, where the Chiefs promptly scored a touchdown to win 42-36. (In an illustration of the NFL’s ongoing stupidity when it comes to overtime rules, if the first team with the ball scores a touchdown, it’s game over…so Josh Allen never touched the ball again after he left the field with a lead.)

Even though Josh Allen has played very well in all of those playoff games, the narrative has formed: Allen is basically nothing until he beats the Chiefs in the playoffs. None of his accomplishments matter until he beats the Chiefs in the playoffs. He’s just another guy until he beats the Chiefs–no, until he beats Patrick Mahomes–in the playoffs. Try to point out that he has played more than well enough to win every one of those games, and it’s been the defense allowing Mahomes and the Chiefs the victory every time, and you get ignored. No, Allen has to beat the Chiefs. Allen has to beat Mahomes. So it must be, or he will forever be judged as less than.

Setting aside the increasingly annoying tendency in American sports discourse to vastly overrate championships as the only things that matter, the only true marks of greatness, and the only valid measure of worth…it’s been very strange to me to see this clunky narrative be forced upon Josh Allen and the Bills. It has almost reached a point where I genuinely believe that if the Bills (a) put together a playoff run, reached the Super Bowl and won it, but (b) didn’t meet the Chiefs in the playoffs during that run, the country’s sports discourse would put a virtual asterisk on the Bills’ win. I really believe that the Bills could win multiple Super Bowls, but if they somehow don’t beat the Chiefs during any of those title runs and get beat by the Chiefs every other time, their accomplishments would be downgraded. It sucks, but that’s just the way it is. It would literally almost be better for the Bills to beat the Chiefs in the playoffs but not win a Super Bowl, than to win the Super Bowl but never knock the Chiefs out.

Basically, American sports discourse is simply insane. I guess that’s reflective of the society itself, innit?

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Something for Thursday

We’ve been rewatching Mad About You lately.

Mad About You is a sitcom that aired in the 1990s for seven seasons. It was about the day-to-day life of a young couple in New York City, Paul and Jamie Buchman, played by Paul Reiser* and Helen Hunt. The show tended to be very down-to-earth in its concerns, almost mundane; in a way, Mad About You was better at being a “show about nothing” than Seinfeld was. We loved Mad About You when it first aired. The Girlfriend (now The Wife) discovered it before I did, but it quickly became a bonding thing for us during the ten or so months after I graduated college that we were doing a long-distance thing. Mad About You, at its best, had a lot of wonderful things to say about love and marriage…and I’ll have done there, as I want to write a longer piece about the show and What It Meant To Me, probably for the upcoming newsletter relaunch.

So, instead of a music selection, here’s a comedic sequence from Mad About You. This is from the show’s second season, when it really hit its stride; its best seasons were probably its second and third. To understand what’s happening here, all you need know is that Paul Buchman is a documentary filmmaker by trade who often finds himself doing film work he finds “beneath” himself (but he grits his teeth and does it because he knows he has to eat). Here he’s been working on a film called A Day At the Zoo. The rest of this should be easy to understand. This scene never comes out and says what’s on “the tape”, but we know, don’t we? And the comedic timing here is just amazing. Reiser and Hunt had the kind of chemistry together that many actors playing parts of fictional partnerships dream of achieving.

(Oh, and this scene ends at the episode’s first commercial break. The complications pile up after this.)

* By the way, what was up with sitcoms in the 90s featuring standup comedians in the lead playing dudes with the same first name as themselves? In Mad About You Paul Reiser plays Paul Buchman. In Seinfeld, Jerry Seinfeld plays…another version of Jerry Seinfeld. Jonathan Silverman starred in The Single Guy, as Jonathan Eliot.

Posted in On Teevee | Tagged | 4 Comments

Thoughts on Taylor Swift (a vlog!)

As part of my ongoing* efforts to extend myself into video content, here are some thoughts I shared on Tiktok earlier today regarding Taylor Swift. These thoughts are more a matter of concern, not any kind of “red flag” thing I’m seeing, and I’m not criticizing her music here at all (though I have to admit, I did not like the newest album very much). Enjoy!

* By “Ongoing”, I mean…I keep thinking that I want to do more video content, and while I guess I have been doing more video content (I’m getting downright consistent on Tiktok!), I still need to get better about doing YouTube, longer-form content.

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Tuesday Tones

Water Abstract
Taken at Canalside, Buffalo, NY
Miranda (Lumix FZ1000ii)
f/5.0, 1/4000sec, ISO 500

This theme ought to yield some good things! That’s right: after completing an exploration of music inspired by the moon, we’re going to explore music inspired by water, in all its forms. And we’re going to start with a work premiered over 300 years ago, the usefully-titled Water Music by George Frideric Handel.

And maybe this isn’t the best place to start, because the work wasn’t actually inspired by water. Handel wrote it for the water…or rather, the boats upon it. Let me explain…no, is too much. Let me sum up.

In 1717, King George I decided to take a barge up the Thames in London, using the tide to propel the barge upstream before coming about for the return trip. The King wanted music, though, so he commissioned Handel to write some; this was performed on another barge that accompanied the Royal Barge on its journey. Some fifty musicians played Handel’s music on that other barge, and apparently many Londoners took to the water in boats and barges of their own to hear the music and pay homage to the King. This must have been quite a spectacle, and honestly, were I given the keys to Doc Brown’s DeLorean and told I could go back in time to witness one concert, the initial performance of Handel’s Water Music might well be the choice.

And the concert was very much a success: the King liked the piece so much he had it performed again on the return trip back down the Thames.

I’m not the best listener when it comes to Baroque music, but Handel and Bach are always exceptions. The Water Music is one of the most pleasant works I know: in its short movements over three suites, Handel deftly creates music of opulent delight and meditation in simple pleasure. As you listen to it, you may notice familiar themes throughout; the Water Music has provided a great deal of familiar music used for other things beyond some King’s barge journey. One movement was the theme music to The Frugal Gourmet, for instance.

Here is a wonderful original-instruments performance of Handel’s Water Music.

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A random fact I learned minutes ago

Michigan has more lighthouses than any other state.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

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“I saw a UFO once….”

A favorite exchange of mine from That 70s Show:

LEO: (Leo is the stoner who owns the local Foto Hut) I saw a UFO once, man. It was awesome! It just hung in the air, then it sent me a message. In big, bright, yellow letters. Said I was going to have a good year.

STEVEN HYDE: (Steven is one of the main teenagers on the show) Did this, by any chance, happen at a football game?

LEO: Yeah, man! And the weird thing is, I was the only one freaking out about it, man! Wait a second… Good year? No, it was a terrible year, man! Stupid aliens.

Why do I bring this up? Because that same UFO was visible from outside my house as it hovered above Highmark Stadium during the Bills-Chiefs game. That’s a good idea, if you’re flying a UFO; you can study humans from right above the stadium where an NFL game is happening because nobody there is looking up at your alien craft. Except for the photographer-writer who lives one neighborhood away. I’m onto you, aliens!

 

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