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WA2K Radio is now on the air

 
 
Raggedyaggie
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 06:45 am
Good Morning WA2K. A delightful way to start the day with a Jacques Cousteau profile and a lovely song of the sea. I had never heard of Ron Hynes before and hopefully will find a sample of his music on the net. I hope Letty will be able to sedate those waves today.

Today's birthday celebs are:

1572 Ben Jonson, playwright/poet (London, England; died 1637)
1776 John Constable, landscape painter (East Bergholt, Suffolk, England; died 1837)
1864 Richard Strauss, composer/musician/conductor (Munich, Germany; died 1949)
1880 Jeannette Rankin, first woman elected to Congress and reformer/pacifist (Missoula, MT; died 1973)
1910 Jacques Cousteau, undersea explorer, writer/filmmaker, and inventor of the Aqualung (St. Andre-de-Cubzac, France; died 1997)
1913 Rise Stevens NYC, mezzo-soprano (Metropolitan Opera) (Carmen, movie Going My Way) (92 yrs old today)
1913 Vince Lombardi, football coach (New York, NY; died 1970)
1918 Nelson Mandela civil right activist in South Africa
1920 Irving Howe, literary/social critic (New York, NY; died 1993)
1925 William Styron, novelist (Newport News, VA) (Confessions of Nat Turner, Sophie's Choice)
1931 Tab Hunter NYC, actor (Tab Hunter Show)(Damn Yankees, Battle Cry)
1933 Jud Strunk Jamestown NY, singer/comedian (Laugh-In)(I'll Bring You a Daisy A Day)
1935 Gene Wilder, actor/director (Milwaukee, WI)
1936 Chad Everett, actor (South Bend, IN)
1939 Jackie Stewart, auto racer (Dunbartonshire, Scotland)
1945 Adrienne Barbeau, actress (Sacramento, CA) wife of John Carpenter (Maude, Swamp Thing)
1956 Joe Montana, Monongahela, Pa.. NFL quarterback (SF 49ers)

http://www.famouslocations.com/images/movies/producers_360.jpghttp://www.movieactors.com/freezeframes5/youngfrank72.jpeg
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 06:58 am
Good morning, Raggedy. Once again, our Raggedy has provided us with the pictures and Bob has supplied the proofs.

For some reason, folks, I was intrigued by Ben Jonson because of his poem "To Celia". No one seems to know when the poem was set to music, but I'll be back with that information a bit later in the broadcast:



Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine.
Or leave a kiss within the cup
And I'll not ask for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove's nectar sip,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much hon'ring thee
As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be;
But thou thereon did'st only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me,
Since when it grows and smells, I swear
Not of itself, but thee.
0 Replies
 
bobsmythhawk
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 07:08 am
Well, look at that lineup. Letty, aggie, Francis et al. How can you miss? The sacred brew is safely encased by the walls of my tummy. Sidelight on Cousteau. Solveig, my ex, was an au pair for a well connected family in France. They had dinner at Cousteau's apartment. When seated at a banquet table she realized an entire wall top to bottom was a sea aquarium. The weight must have been enormous. There's no question that special construction must have been used to bear all that avoirdupois.
0 Replies
 
edgarblythe
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 07:31 am
the sun was in clouds, the sun looked out
exposed a trail of mist and spouts
ships followed the ancient lead
deceiving friends under the sea
wow, imagine that? they won't fight back
i got a theory on that
a whale's heart is as big as a car
a whaler's thought must be smudged by the dark
they won't fight back
i'm sure they know how
means they love or are too proud
they won't fight back
i'm sure they know how
means they love or too proud
they swim, it's really free
it's a beautiful thing to see
they sing
hunters of land, hunters of sea
exploit anything for money
i refer to anybody that takes advantage of what that is free
they won't fight back
it's only a thought that makes it seem right
what you don't see is because of your sight
take what you want, kill what you can
that's just one way from the mind of man
take their lives, sell their parts
but there is not taking of their hearts
if i was lost at sea
that harpoon boat in front of me
it's the whale i'd like to be
they won't fight back
they won't fight back
they won't fight back
they won't fight back
they won't fight back
they don't know how
they won't fight back
they won't fight back
they won't fight back



Whale Song
Pearl Jam
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 08:35 am
Bob, that is awesome about your ex. Can you imagine what a bee bee gun would do to that wall aquarium? I don't think that I would enjoy eating very much with that heavy water staring me in the face; however, it must have been breathtakingly beautiful.

I was also looking at William Styron. Read both of the books listed by Aggie.

Edgar, that song by Pearl Jam is a song of the leviathan. Soooo sad.
0 Replies
 
AngeliqueEast
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 08:39 am
The wonderful life giving sea.
Jacuques Cousteau

http://www.cousteau.org/en/heritage/captain/man_inc/medias/mission_in_antarctica.jpg



This is a website about this great man.

http://www.cousteau.org/en/heritage/captain/man.php


Old Man Ocean


Old Man Ocean, how do you pound
Smooth glass, rough stones round?
   Time and the tide and the wild waves rolling
   Night and the wind and the long gray dawn.


Old Man Ocean, what do you tell,
What do you sing in the empty shell?
   Fog and the storm and the long bell tolling,
   Bones in the deep and the brave men gone.


by Russell Hoban
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 08:51 am
Well, there is Angel with a pix of Cousteau. Hey, gal, you have learned since FLWright. Good for you.

Word for the day:

immolate. Can you guess the meaning, listeners?
0 Replies
 
AngeliqueEast
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 08:58 am
I'm finished with the post now. *smiles*

Yes Letty I finally learned. It took me all night of testing, but I did it.

Raggedy your great!
0 Replies
 
Francis
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 09:08 am
Letty wrote:
Word for the day:

immolate. Can you guess the meaning, listeners?


Some immolate themselves on the altar of love...
0 Replies
 
yitwail
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 09:09 am
immolate ~ consume by fire?

incidentally, did anyone guess your quote about madness and such? sounded shakespearean to me--a method to its madness, as it were--but probably wasn't.
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 09:15 am
Yes, our Raggedy is great. Unfortunately, she and the wizard of light failed to teach Letty.

A little animal anecdote:

My brood is back in the pond out back.

Seven little moorhens singing in the rain,
Patterning their parents,
Very true to strain.
Black and fluffy,
eider down and more,
Red on their little bills,
swimming close to shore.

What shall I name them, folks?
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 09:25 am
Yes, so they do, Francis, and you are right, as usual.

Yit, no one guessed Emily. <smile> nor did they guess Rosemary...thyme will tell.
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 09:38 am
and for the people here who immolate, <smile>

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
For once she was a true love of mine.

Have her make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without a seam or fine needle work
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have her wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Where ne'er a drop of water e'er fell
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have her find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea and over the sand
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

If she tells me she can't, I'll reply
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Let me know that at least she will try
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Love imposes impossible tasks
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Though not more than any heart asks
And I must know she's a true love of mine.

Dear, when thou hast finished thy task
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me, my hand for to ask
For thou then art a true love of mine.
0 Replies
 
bobsmythhawk
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 10:25 am
Johnny Cash - Ring Of Fire


Love is a burnin' thing,
And it makes a fiery ring
Bound by wild desire --
I fell into a ring of fire.

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire --
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burn, burns,
The ring of fir, the ring of fire.

The taste of love is sweet
When hearts like ours meet.
I fell for you like a child --
Oh, but the fire ran wild.

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire --
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burn, burns,
The ring of fir, the ring of fire.

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire --
I went down, down, down,
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burn, burns,
The ring of fir, the ring of fire.

The ring of fire (and Fade)
0 Replies
 
AngeliqueEast
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 10:32 am
How to post an image.
Letty I decided that I had to learn it yesterday. So I went to forum help, and with the help of what others posted I finally found half the answer. I say half because I can only post images from the net. I have a mac, and I have personal files with a different add. I have to understand my add in my personal files (like my pics & scans of my art work) before I can copy and paste any of my work in a post. I hope you understand me. I have to take some time next week and call my mac support, and ask them to help me understand the use of my personal add, so I can post my pics and art work scans anywhere, including my website.

Anyway, what do you have, a pc or mac?

For the mac you do this:

(1)First you find a pic on the net that you like (not all pics will allow you to do this, but most do.

(2) A. Press the control key.
B.point to the pick, and click (a window should open).
C.Let go of control key.
D. In the window it should ask you if you want the image and add on another page, click on that (the wording may differ).
E.The image should appear in a new page alone, copy the above add.

(3) Go to the forum you want to post the pic, look up and click on the image button (IMG) on top of your post page (a window will appear), paste the add there, and click OK. The add should appear in the post page. If you add the image add first in a post, it will appear on top, if you add it last, after your text is written it will appear last.
0 Replies
 
bobsmythhawk
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 10:37 am
One Night Changes a Life, and Calif. Town

By TIM DAHLBERG, AP Sports Writer Fri Jun 10, 3:40 PM ET

CLOVIS, Calif. - The chant began late in the fourth quarter in the basketball gym at Clovis East High. The students started it first, clapping their hands in unison and pounding the bleachers with their feet. It didn't take long for the parents to pick it up, too. The noise grew until the whole gym seemed to shake. "We want Ryno. We want Ryno."


Pacing the sideline, coach Tim Amundsen felt himself getting goose bumps. Less than 4 minutes remained in the game, and Clovis East was winning comfortably over rival Buchanan High. Now Amundsen had a decision to make.

It was senior night, the last time Ryan Belflower would wear his home uniform. Everyone in the gym knew his story.

Ryan was a special education student who would do anything to fit in and worked tirelessly to make that happen. His basketball career began as a ninth grader passing out balls to the girls' team. Then he hooked on with the boys' team, getting there every morning at 6:30, helping out in drills, running the practice clock and cleaning up afterward.

Now, he sat proudly on the sideline in his own white No. 12 uniform.

The crowd wanted him in the game. Amundsen wanted him in, too. But he was also afraid the slightly built 18-year-old might get hurt.

Amundsen considered all this as he walked toward Ryan and patted him on the shoulder. Off came the warmup jacket, the buzzer blew and Ryan kind of half hopped, half ran onto the court, his left leg trailing slightly at an odd angle.

The noise was deafening as he ran out on the court.

In the stands, Justin Belflower was near tears. A few years earlier, he was a jock at Clovis East, one of those big men on campus. He knew how hard his kid brother had worked for this moment.

"If you had said four years ago he'd play in a varsity basketball game, I'd say stop lying because it will never happen," Justin said.

On this afternoon in February, it did.

And Clovis East would never be the same.

___

Shooting a basketball was never that big a problem for Ryan. He figured that out during countless hours of playing H-O-R-S-E with Justin in the driveway of the family's modest home in this Fresno suburb.

Playing in a game was something entirely different. Ryan couldn't grasp the concepts of filling lanes, going to spots, running routes.

As a child he struggled to understand the smallest things. He could tell you his name, but for years he couldn't tell you his age.

"You would try to teach him at every birthday, but sometimes it just didn't sink in," said his mother, Shauna Belflower.

His mother knew early on that Ryan was different. He was barely speaking as a toddler, and he just didn't act like his older brother did at that age. She took him to a speech and language specialist, who examined Ryan for about five minutes before turning back to his mother.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, ma'am, but there's a lot more wrong with your son than his speech," the woman said.

Shauna Belflower searched for answers, though few came as the years went on. Ryan had autistic symptoms, but no one ever formally diagnosed him with that. She took Ryan to different doctors, and even locked him in a psychiatric hospital for 16 days when he was 5. He went on medication, but it made him violent and he had to be weaned from it.

"It was almost like having a little Helen Keller. He had no way of communicating," his mother said. "He knew words were a way of communicating, just no way of knowing what they meant."

In the end, there wasn't much doctors could do. Ryan would improve as he learned things, but for years he struggled to understand and carrying on a conversation was almost impossible. He would look at the ground when he talked, and it was a long time before he could answer a question like "How are you?"

Increasingly, though, that talk was about sports. Ryan memorized statistics, watched ESPN constantly and found out everything he could about his favorite team, the
San Francisco 49ers.

Still, he struggled in his vocational special education classes, struggled to find his place in a big high school, struggled with life's little oddities every single day.

One day during his freshman year, girls basketball coach Meredith Pulliam asked her class if anyone wanted to help the team.

In the back of the room, Ryan's hand went up.

Every day he'd be at practice, handing out balls, trying to figure out how to run the clock. At first, the girls were wary of this boy who said almost nothing but was always around. But, as time went on, they grew to love the scrawny kid who worked so hard and did everything he could for them.

Ryan was finally a part of something. And the kid who could barely talk to anyone a few years earlier now wanted to be manager of the boys' team. Maybe, just maybe, he could even play. After all, he did know how to shoot.

"I had a long day to figure it out, but I wanted to play," Ryan said. "I really did. And if I didn't make it, at least I tried."

Amundsen knew about Ryan's work habits and his determination. After Ryan tried out as a junior, he told him he could be the boys' team manager. If he worked real hard, maybe he would earn a uniform.

"A lot of times kids like that end up disappearing after two weeks," Amundsen said.

Not Ryan.

He got up early, swept the gym, put out basketballs and got players water.

"I paid the price," Ryan said. "I didn't want to quit and I wasn't going to."

Just before the last game of the year, Amundsen handed him his No. 12 uniform.

"He did it the right way. He earned it," Amundsen said. "You don't see that much these days."

___

With Ryan finally in the game, the chant grew even louder in the Clovis East gym.

"Give Ryan the ball. Give Ryan the ball."

Ryan wanted it, too. He ran down the court to the corner by himself to wait in case someone saw him. If no one did, he would run back behind the 3-point line to get a pass.

On defense, the 5-foot-6 player ran after Buchanan High's biggest man.

"Coach told me to guard anybody I saw," he would explain later.

Ryan had played a few seconds in a few games already his senior year. It hadn't gone well.

In his first game, the other team was running a fast break off a miss and Ryan couldn't get out of the way. He was sent sprawling about 10 feet down the court. It wasn't anybody's fault, but it made Amundsen wary.

The other kids were bigger and stronger. They saw plays developing. They reacted quicker.

About 2 minutes remained in the game, and Ryan's teammates were trying their best to get him the ball.

Suddenly, he had it unguarded out beyond the 3-point line. As he launched the shot, everyone in the gym froze. On the sideline, his teammates rose as one.

The shot missed badly, clunking off the lower backboard.

By now, the Buchanan players seemed to recognize what was going on. When Ryan got the ball again they fouled him, sending him to the free throw line so he would have a chance to score.

But all the games of H-O-R-S-E hadn't prepared him for this moment. His free throw arced high off the top of the backboard.

In the stands, Justin was crying tears of joy. His brother may have missed, but at least he got a chance. He could always talk about the night he played.

The final seconds were ticking off the clock and Clovis East got the ball one last time. This time, Ryan found a spot just beyond the 3-point line to the left of the key. He got a pass, and turned to shoot.

The noisy gym quieted for a split second as the ball seemed to hang in the air forever.

It swished through, the way it did so many times in the driveway in front of his house.

"Nothing but net," he exclaimed.

The buzzer sounded as Ryan ran joyously toward his bench, attempting to chest butt a teammate in celebration.

In the stands, Justin tried to scream, but nothing came out. He wasn't alone. Grown men and women hugged each other and cried.

The kid who wouldn't take no for an answer could now say he was a player, too.

"All the parents were bawling, and the students were too," Amundsen said. "My coaching staff all had tears in their eyes. It was an unbelievable moment."

It wasn't over yet. As the teams shook hands, two football players grabbed Ryan and hoisted him on their shoulders. He held his arms high in celebration, a big grin on his face, as they carried him on a victory lap around the gymnasium.

"I've never seen anything like it before and I probably never will," Amundsen said. "He'll be my example the rest of my life as a coach."

___

Word traveled quickly about Ryan's shot. He was on the front page of the Fresno Bee. Local TV replayed his shot again and again.

The attention has been a bit overwhelming, but his mother says he has handled it well. He makes sure he looks a visitor in the eye when he talks about it.

"It's about showing the love," he said.

The entire Central Valley has shown its love to Ryan, too. He's not really sure what it all means, but he knows he's been accepted.

"You can see how he's kind of trying to figure it out. I don't know if he fully comprehends what is going on," said his special education teacher, A.J. Blackburn. "His ability to process how huge this has become isn't quite there. With disabilities you don't understand abstract concepts. They need to be concrete. He understands what he did was important, but doesn't truly understand why."

Ryan's future is uncertain. He walked with other students at graduation, but the special education kids don't get diplomas. He had never had a date, but recently worked up the courage to ask a member of the girls' basketball team to the prom.

He's thinking of trying to be the team manager at Fresno City College, and wants to have a career in sports. He memorizes statistics and can tell you how every member of the 49ers did last year.

"My dreams now are to be a sports analyst," he says. "I know so much and people say I'm good at it."

That dream will be harder to achieve than hitting a 3-pointer.

"It's going to be a tough transition from this sheltered place called high school," Blackburn said. "Eventually I envision Ryan to be for the most part independent with some counseling. He will always need some assistance, but once he gets in a routine he will be able to live a life much like the rest of us."

Whatever happens, they can't take away the moment that brought a school together and made a town proud. They can't take away the shot that made Ryan a hero.

"He's a guy who tries more than most people ever do," Pulliam said. "He's probably put in twice the work and gotten half the results of anyone else. But he gives others like him hope that there might be a moment in life for them, too, in some way."

___

Tim Dahlberg is a national sports columnist for The Associated Press.
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 10:55 am
Ah, Angel, Thank you, honey. I don't have a mac. It's a custom built computer and a pc.

I promise I will try and learn, just not this weekend. <smile>

Bob, there's the man in black again, and the song follows right along with consummation by fire as Yit observed. Neat story about the kid with the free throw and the speech flow.

We miss our cyracuz, but I'm certain that he is ok, listeners.

I have an idea, folks, about how to name my moorhens. AHA!

I will call each one by the names of our contributors.
0 Replies
 
booman2
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 03:08 pm
IMMOLATE?......Or on time? ( Laughing oh I crack me up)
0 Replies
 
booman2
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 03:21 pm
By the way, to immolate is the act of proffering a victim for sacrifice. Now I have a request; One time in my life, over 25 years ago, I was thrilled by a lovely, an fun song by Johnny Cash, and The Carter family. all I remember are the opening lines: "Daddy sang bass,
.................................................And Mama sang tenor,"
...And that's all I remember. By the way the first line was done by Johnny, and the second one , I suppose was June.
0 Replies
 
McTag
 
  1  
Reply Sat 11 Jun, 2005 03:21 pm
Well folks, tonight's TV programme in the series Blues & Soul was about Mary J Blige and hip-hop and I must say it didn't do too much for me.

She seems a nice girl though, and a good singer, but the genre is not to my taste.
Seemingly important, though, to many, and Mary J is iconic apparently. Which just goes to show how out-of-touch I am.
0 Replies
 
 

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