Showing posts with label Washington Irving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Washington Irving. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Wash




So, I figure that if you're reading this, you probably know that today is the anniversary of the birth of the fabulously gifted & charming Doris Day. Only the Divine & the bookkeeping angels know how many thousands people came into the world on this day in history, but I don't want to know the day to end w/o making mention of a most extraordinary individual. Storyteller. Traveler. Diplomat. Amateur architect.
As a child in New York City, then the nation's capital, he met newly-inaugurated President Washington.
In his History of New York (by a fictitious Diedrich Knickerbocker), he introduced the concept of St. Nicholas as a jolly stocking-stuffer, a good 14 years before C.C. Moore's TNBC. Later on, really, he introduced comparatively dour Americans to the idea of feasting, of making merry at Yuletide as in Olde England.
He wrote Rip Van Winkle.
He was America's first internationally known author.
He danced with Dolley Madison.
As the U.S. Minister to Spain, he as presented to young Queen Victoria ,he lived in the legendary Moorish-Spanish castle/fortress of Alhambra, and he mentored young Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
He wrote a serious biography of Christopher Columbus and, back home in America, he built a home, Sunnyside, so beautiful that it was tourist destination in his lifetime. He made a storied journey into the the American West, too.
And he was the subject of one of my books, one of my favorite and a graveyard of buried hopes, sales-wise, the world being a quixotic, disappointing place at times. Too, this fine picture book marked the end of a good two decades of nonstop writing & illustrating one book after another. Oh, there have been books since then and many fine experiences & blessings. But with the financial collapse, with the long, bumptious analog/digital shift, the publishing world changed.
In any case, if he hadn't been dead for many years now, charming, scholarly Washington Irving, known to friends and family as Wash, ould be celebrating his 229th birthday today. Truly, a remarkable gent. I was glad to learn about him.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

what will be...

So a little over a week ago I had a death grip on my little red hoopie's steering wheel, praying that I wouldn't kill anyone or be killed in the midst of a whirling snowstorm, though had I accidentally slammed into one of the many barely visible cars, its equally dim driver would have had it coming seeing as he or she had NOT been blessed w/ the brain power generally bequeathed to a run of the mill hamster & hadn't switched on his or her headlights = too dumb to drive and/or live . Now today (Doris Day's birthday, bless her heart forever, a birthday shared w/ the remarkable, far-traveling Washington Irving, the subject of my last [ever?] bona fide picture book - it was handsome, no foolin' - done before the publishing biz turned upside down and the National Geographic dumped me) it was about 90ยบ
Sheesh.
On the other hand, I sculpted today. Played with clay. How I loved talking to all those hundreds of children in Hopkins Co., KY and in Jackson, MO - do you know that there's a little piano there that was brought over from Europe by ship, by flatboat, by oxcart in 1815? There totally is.
How I'd love to do that more often, entertain kids, having serious fun w/ teachers, librarians, & their fizzy gaggles of young clients. How I love being home alone, talking to no one, seeing no one.
A bit of a conflict, huh? she wrote to no one in particular. your basic tree falling in the forest.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

They're Off!

So, you all probably know that cheerful, far-traveling Washington Irving (future author of Rip Van Winkle and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, future dancer with lovely Dolley Madison, future U.S. Ambassador > Spain, + subject of a swell book I wrote and illustrated, published by the Nat'l Geographic: The Literary Adventures of Washington Irving: American Storyteller. Join the tiny throng of those who bought a copy of it! You won't be sorry!)
And if you don't know, let me remind you that it was on this day in 1882 that the real-life-legendary outlaw Jesse James, 34, was killed on this day in 1882, snuck up upon from behind by glory- & bounty-seeking coward, Robt. Ford. This happened up in St. Joseph, Missouri, exactly 22 years after the first horse and rider galloped past a cheering crowd, down the path and onto the ferry that would carry them over the Missouri River to Kansas. Nearly 2,000 miles away, another pony, another rider, was doing the same, heading NE out of San Francisco. The Pony Express was off and running!
Here's my poem. You can sing it if you're a mind to (I surely hope you will!) to the tune of the old cowboy song: I Ride an Old Paint.

The Ballad of the Pony Express

Come eighteen and sixty
The country had a test:
How'll we get our letters
To folks from east to west?
Three Missouri fellers
Say try this on for size:
We'll get us some ponies
And some tough little guys.

From the edge of Missouri,
From the town of St. Joe
They galloped the prairies
Just as fast as they could go,
And over the mountains
Down to San Francisco Bay
Ten days of hard riding the lightning relay.

Think on those horsemen
With their bold, careless smiles...
One thousand, nine hundred
And sixty-six miles!
'Twixt Missouri and the ocean,
Far off in the West,
Went the horses and the riders
of the Pony Express.

Chorus: Ride on, ye young travelers!
Ye bravest and the best,
Go follow your fortunes
Out there in the West!

p.s. If your travels should take you to the Land of the Show-Me, do visit the swell Pony Express Museum in St. Joseph, MO. www.ponyexpress.org Big doings up there today!