Canthook

In July 1969, Esquire magazine's cover story had famous writers discussing what Neil Armstrong's first words from the moon should be. Bob Hope suggested, "I'll be darned, it's made of cheese!" Ed Koch offered, "I proclaim the moon an international scientific laboratory." Poet Stanley Kunitz wanted "I shall never escape from strangeness or complete my journey...."

At 10:56 pm EDT on July 20, when he first stepped on the moon, Neil Armstrong had his quotation ready, but he flubbed it. Instead of "one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind", he left out the word "a", which changed the meaning from "a man" - himself - to "man", meaning the human race.

And what made it worse, he wasn't making a small step. It was fairly obvious he was making a pretty big jump. In the end, the most famous quotation to come out of the NASA program wasn't that overpolished line, but "Houston, we have a problem" of Apollo 13 - which was an understatement.

What would you say if you knew people were paying attention, really paying attention? There are lots of great quotations which were accidental - Rodney King's "Can't we just get along?" - and a few short dying phrases which are remembered. President John Adams' dying words, on July 4, 1826, were "Thomas Jefferson--still survives..." but it turns out that Jefferson had died that same day, a few hours earlier. Jane Austen, asked by her sister if she wanted anything, said, "Nothing but death." And Tallulah Bankhead dying words in 1968 were, "Codeine... bourbon".

Gotta love Tallulah - no "dull as ditch water" for her. James Barrie's last words, as he died in 1937 were "I can't sleep." And P. T. Barnum's last words were, "How were the receipts today at Madison Square Garden?"

But they gave Randy Pausch fair warning. He had pancreatic cancer, and they told him in 2006 that he had months to live. In a year, you can figure out what you want to say, and it wasn't a few words - it was a lecture on "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" that he gave his students at Carnegie Mellon last September 18. It became known as "The Last Lecture".

Randy died today, and Leo told me that I should listen to "The Last Lecture". I'd heard it before, and I had qualms about listening to it again. If it's really the last lecture, wouldn't that make reruns impossible, or unethical, or something like that? But I listen to Leo. He's not always right, but he's always worth listening to.

So I started to listen to the "Lecture After The Last Lecture" this afternoon, and Blondie asked me, "Do you have any idea how annoying that is?" I'm not sure whether she was talking about the message, or about the fact that YouTube was having difficulty serving it. Blondie is quite often wrong, but it's always a mistake not to listen to her, so I closed that window, and went looking for some music.

"And the strong seem to get more while the weak ones fade. Empty pockets don't ever make the grade. Mama may have, and Papa may have, but God bless the child that's got his own."

I'm not sure why I picked Blood, Sweat & Tears. It's been a while since I played it, and that's a shame. If you're one of my younger readers, you may not be aware of the group, and that's even more of a shame. In the late 1960s, when rock had radio by the throat, choking out bluegrass, cowboy, and just about every other genre of music, the jazz fusion of BS&T cut through the rock with some insanely great performances.

The group formed about 1967, with David Clayton-Thomas as lead singer. There was a lot of dynamic tension between different factions of the group, trying to choose between pop rock and jazz, and while that resulted in some really nice albums, it was hard for the members of the group. Finally in 1972, Clayton-Thomas said to hell with it, and went off to do his own thing, and he was followed shortly after by Steve Katz and Chuck Winfield. While the group didn't exactly go pffft, the bloom was off the rose. If you're going to get just one BS&T album, it should be the 1972 "Greatest Hits" album, available through the link here as a remastered CD.

Blood, Sweat & Tears may be great music when you're having fun - it's good "road music", to be played at high volume while you tool along shady country roads - but it's also great solitude and sorrow music, for while the lyrics are sympathetic, you aren't dragged down into a maudlin puddle of tears ala "Love Story".

A few songs into the album, Blondie asked me, "Is this that group I really like?" Conversations with Blondie can be highly entertaining at times. I don't know, do you really like this group? I didn't say that, though. Instead, I said, "I don't know. It's Blood, Sweat & Tears". She quickly told me that yes, that was the group she was thinking of. A week from now, I will mention Blood, Sweat & Tears as being a group she really likes, and she will say, "Where did you ever get that idea." Blondie is by no means insane, but she is a "carrier".

In any case, thank you, Randy Pausch, for giving us an inspiring lecture. And if anyone remembers to do it, playing Blood Sweat & Tears at my funeral would be an appropriate gesture.

Not for me, though. I may be in Heaven - good news for me - or I may be in Hell - good riddance to me - or I may simply be gone, with nothing left. None of those possibilities suggest I'll be able to hear it. It'd be for the few that attend.

Other Bloggers On Related Topics:
Apollo 13 - Blood Sweat & Tears - James Barrie - Neil Armstrong - P. T. Barnum - Randy Pausch - Tallulah Bankhead - The Last Lecture