From whiskey river:
We’re fools whether we dance or not,
So we might as well dance.
(Japanese proverb)
…and:
The first principle is that you must not fool yourself — and you are the easiest person to fool.
(Richard Feynman [in his 1974 CalTech commencement address])
Not from whiskey river:
Fool’s Money Bags
Outside the long window,
With his head on the stone sill,
The dog is lying,
Gazing at his Beloved.
His eyes are wet and urgent,
And his body is taut and shaking.
It is cold on the terrace;
A pale wind licks along the stone slabs,
But the dog gazes through the glass
And is content.The Beloved is writing a letter.
Occasionally she speaks to the dog,
But she is thinking of her writing.
Does she, too, give her devotion to one
Not worthy?
(Amy Lowell [source])
Now let’s look back a few years, to the revivification of John Travolta’s career, post-Pulp Fiction. In 1996 he took the title role in Michael: a vacationing archangel. In fact, this is the last vacation Michael may take (according to some rulebook which angels must follow), so he wants to make it a good one. (An angel who wants to vacation on Earth? you’re thinking. He replies, “Whatever they say, you can never have too much of Earth.”) He travels across country with a group of staffers for a gossip/tabloid magazine, and on the way they stop at a roadhouse…
A fun blog post probably awaits me, or somebody, on the subject of “classic scenes from non-classic films.” This scene in the roadhouse is wonderful — I was very surprised I couldn’t find it anywhere online but at an Italian site. In any case, it answers pretty definitively the question an alien might ask: “Why do people dance, anyway?” (Michael is like a flystrip which, when dangled in the air, catches only females.)
It doesn’t hurt that the music (lyrics below) likewise ties into the theme of this week’s Friday post, especially the Japanese proverb.
Lyrics:
Chain of Fools
(words and music by Don Covay;
performance by Aretha Franklin)Chain, chain, chain, chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain, chain of fools
Five long years I thought you were my man
But I found out I’m just a link in your chain
You got me where you want me
I ain’t nothing but your fool
You treated me mean oh you treated me cruel
Chain, chain, chain, chain of foolsEvery chain has got a weak link
I might be weak child, but I’ll give you strength
You told me to leave you alone
My father said come on home
My doctor said take it easy
Whole bunch of lovin is much too strong
I’m added to your chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain, chain,
Chain, chain of foolsOne of these mornings the chain is gonna break
But up until then, yeah, I’m gonna take all I can take
Chain, chain, chain, chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain, chain of fools
marta says
Well, now I want to see that Michael movie. Sigh. I do love to dance.
John says
marta: In my case, finding the pronoun “I” and the word “dance” in the same paragraph is like catching one of those movie gaffes where (say) a medieval farmer can be seen consulting his watch. (Now that I think about it, the same thing can be said for “I” and “swim.”)
But this Michael scene does make it pretty obvious, even to me, why people dance. (I love the little moment of prayer right at the very start of the song.)
Jules says
What a great dance scene. What is it about Travolta and dancing? I think you made that clear — he’s not afraid to be foolish. And Travolta not being afraid to be foolish when he dances = obscenely cool.
froog says
I have a friend who keeps telling me, “As long as you manage to look like you’re having fun, people will think you’re a great dancer.”
I’m afraid I’m just not that good an actor.
(Like you, perhaps, John?) I missed that crucial window of fearlessness/unselfconsciousness in early childhood when we must learn to do things like swim, dance, and ride bicycles. I don’t think you can pick these things up in later life. It’s very, very difficult, anyway.
Also, the standards I set for myself are too high. If I can’t do something really well, I’d rather not do it at all (hence, perhaps, not getting started on the novel). I look on dancing much the same way as I look on swimming: I’d rather drown with dignity than make an ass of myself by attempting something I know I’m incompetent at.
By the way, thanks so much for the Feynman link. One of my heroes!
Did you know he apparently used to write a bon mot on the blackboard for every one of his physics lectures? The last one (at CalTech, possibly?) was left up for a long time after his death, as a commemoration (though I doubt if it’s still there now; chalk fades quite quickly; and other people need to use the board). I saw a photograph of it in an illustrated biography some years ago (wish I’d bought it, but it was just a bookstore browse); I think it might have been this one.
Feynman’s final epigram for his students was:
That which I cannot build, I do not truly understand.
froog says
Your mission, should you choose to accept it…..
I hate to impose on you, but you have proved to be such a prodigy of resourcefulness in your online searching that I can’t help throwing out one more request. If you’re not too busy.
I have been looking for ages for a poem by the British writer Vernon Scannell. I’m not sure of the title, but it’s a piece reminiscing about his childhood experience of going to the cinema in the 1930s. I’m pretty sure it begins “Beeston the place, near Nottingham….” (but that immediately brings you into difficulties, because Beeston Place is an address in London!) and ends “moved us [or“our hearts”?] with something oddly close to love.”
Go do that voodoo that you do so well.
By the by, there appears to be a glitch (although it might just be the result of my antediluvian Internet connection) where the ReCaptcha box doesn’t appear first time.
marta says
@John – Just had to come back on say that this very morning “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” on NPR this morning had a riff on John Travolta dancing. Because of the fund drive, it is a clip show, but it was funny and made me think of RAMH.
John says
Jules: After I dug this clip up, a part of my mind wondered all day yesterday whether JT had ever appeared on one of those celebrity-dance shows. Decided probably not, because — exciting though they may be — they don’t to my knowledge reward the sort of ecstatic, throw-yourself-to-the-gods-of-Dance, ultimately unclassifiable hoofing which he does. Maybe Saturday Night Fever — do they ever feature disco shows? — but I can’t see him doing anything ballroom-focused.
froog: Your friend’s “look like you’re having fun” instruction carries what is, for me, the seed of its own destruction: the idea that people might actually be looking at me is what keeps me off the dance floor. If there were some way to make myself, say, a millimeter tall, I like to think I’d be right out there throwing myself around like everybody else.
Swimming’s another matter; I’m one of those bizarre individuals who sink. One of these days I may tell a story here about my (non-)swimming experiences.
Scannell challenge accepted. We’ll have to see how it goes; I don’t think I’d ever (don’t bristle!) heard of him till just now.
(Oh, and I’ll keep an eye on the recaptcha problem. I haven’t seen any sign in the page statistics that people are floundering with it but greatly appreciate your mentioning it.)
marta: Serendipity! I love serendipity!
John says
froog: Well, for starters — you can disregard your difficulties about Beeston/Nottingham; turns out there is a town called Beeston, which is about 4 miles from Nottingham. [Google Maps (and ideally, that link will not lead you to a poster of Conan the Librarian)]
The poem, whose title is “Autobiographical Note,” is cited in several places around the Web but none of them I’ve found so far, frustratingly, includes more than the first few words. The longest such snippet I have looks like this: “Beeston, the place, near Nottingham: We lived there for three years or so. Each Saturday at two-o’clock We queued up for the matinee, All the kids for…” and then stops. It seems to have been anthologized in quite a few places, including VS’s own Collected Poems 1950-1993, and a 1963 collection of poems by various authors, Here Today: Modern Poems, compiled and with an introduction by Ted Hughes. (I even found a review of an LP album, in which the poems in this collection were read by actors and actresses.) Amazon has two MP3 downloads available — poems by Scannell, read by him — but sadly, neither is “Autobiographical Note.”
I won’t say “Sorry!” just yet, but it’s not looking good. (Unless you can lay your hands on a copy of his Collected Poems!)
froog says
Thanks so much, John – sterling work, as ever. I think the Here Today collection is probably where I came upon it. It was a book I used to use in my teaching days.
I too have that sinking problem – a combination of high bone density and low lung volume, or something. Well, I’m not quite brick-like; but I can’t, without effort, keep my mouth above water, even in very salty seas.
I have a theory that you are directly controlling your ReCaptcha device (which, by the way, is now appearing on my screen just fine), using it as a kind of Twitter. As you clearly know, you are confronting me now with the prompt “usually present”.
Madman says
I’ve recently tried to takes steps back in my life and reflect on who I really am; and there are some foolish situations and things that I do. But I also realize that I don’t really care….Thanks for the thought provoking post.
John says
Madman: It’s never a good idea to tell someone who goes by a nickname like yours anything other than, “Uh… yes! exactly!” But I’ll go out on a limb and say that you’re probably in for some scary fun. :) Thanks for stopping by!
froog: That sounds like me in water, all right. I had a wonderful opportunity to take two week-long cruises, expenses paid, a few years ago, and surprised myself in enjoying it quite a bit. If I had a moment’s trepidation I forgot it the next moment.
You’re the only person to have seen through my devious word-verification scheme. E.g., when I tell you I’m now looking at “Harper scholarly,” I’ll bet you, too, feel the foul breeze of paranoia at the back of your neck.
froog says
Protect Navona.
What? Where? Who? Why do they need my help?
I’ll lose sleep over this.
Brian says
I’m looking for it too!
@froog –