Bert Haanstra - Glas

Glas: Glass Blowing Looks So Fantastically Fun


Bert Haanstra's Glas is a short 10-minute documentary from 1958 about glass that won an Oscar. It's a beautiful short that shows the art of glass blowing versus the character-less mechanism of automated glass bottle making machines. There's no voice over, no narration, just beautiful scenes of glass being made. It's like porn for manufacturing. Even while you don't understand what's going on, it's lovely to see.

Bill Millin:Piper at D-day in Normandy: June 6, 1944

Bill Millin

Bill Millin, piper at the D-Day landings, died on August 17th, aged 88 





ANY reasonable observer might have thought Bill Millin was unarmed as he jumped off the landing ramp at Sword Beach, in Normandy, on June 6th 1944. Unlike his colleagues, the pale 21-year-old held no rifle in his hands. Of course, in full Highland rig as he was, he had his trusty skean dhu, his little dirk, tucked in his right sock. But that was soon under three feet of water as he waded ashore, a weary soldier still smelling his own vomit from a night in a close boat on a choppy sea, and whose kilt in the freezing water was floating prettily round him like a ballerina's skirt.

But Mr Millin was not unarmed; far from it. He held his pipes, high over his head at first to keep them from the wet (for while whisky was said to be good for the bag, salt water wasn't), then cradled in his arms to play. And bagpipes, by long tradition, counted as instruments of war. An English judge had said so after the Scots' great defeat at Culloden in 1746; a piper was a fighter like the rest, and his music was his weapon. The whining skirl of the pipes had struck dread into the Germans on the Somme, who had called the kilted pipers “Ladies from Hell”. And it raised the hearts and minds of the home side, so much so that when Mr Millin played on June 5th, as the troops left for France past the Isle of Wight and he was standing on the bowsprit just about keeping his balance above the waves getting rougher, the wild cheers of the crowd drowned out the sound of his pipes even to himself.

His playing had been planned as part of the operation. On commando training near Fort William he had struck up a friendship with Lord Lovat, the officer in charge of the 1st Special Service Brigade. Not that they had much in common. Mr Millin was short, with a broad cheeky face, the son of a Glasgow policeman; his sharpest childhood memory was of being one of the “poor”, sleeping on deck, on the family's return in 1925 from Canada to Scotland. Lovat was tall, lanky, outrageously handsome and romantic, with a castle towering above the river at Beauly, near Inverness. He had asked Mr Millin to be his personal piper: not a feudal but a military arrangement. The War Office in London now forbade pipers to play in battle, but Mr Millin and Lord Lovat, as Scots, plotted rebellion. In this “greatest invasion in history”, Lovat wanted pipes to lead the way.

He was ordering now, as they waded up Sword Beach, in that drawly voice of his: “Give us a tune, piper.” Mr Millin thought him a mad bastard. The man beside him, on the point of jumping off, had taken a bullet in the face and gone under. But there was Lovat, strolling through fire quite calmly in his aristocratic way, allegedly wearing a monogrammed white pullover under his jacket and carrying an ancient Winchester rifle, so if he was mad Mr Millin thought he might as well be ridiculous too, and struck up “Hielan' Laddie”. Lovat approved it with a thumbs-up, and asked for “The Road to the Isles”. Mr Millin inquired, half-joking, whether he should walk up and down in the traditional way of pipers. “Oh, yes. That would be lovely.”

Three times therefore he walked up and down at the edge of the sea. He remembered the sand shaking under his feet from mortar fire and the dead bodies rolling in the surf, against his legs. For the rest of the day, whenever required, he played. He piped the advancing troops along the raised road by the Caen canal, seeing the flashes from the rifle of a sniper about 100 yards ahead, noticing only after a minute or so that everyone behind him had hit the deck in the dust. When Lovat had dispatched the sniper, he struck up again. He led the company down the main street of Bénouville playing “Blue Bonnets over the Border”, refusing to run when the commander of 6 Commando urged him to; pipers walked as they played.

He took them across two bridges, one (later renamed the Pegasus Bridge) ringing and banging as shrapnel hit the metal sides, one merely with railings which bullets whistled through: “the longest bridge I ever piped across.” Those two crossings marked their successful rendezvous with the troops who had preceded them. All the way, he learned later, German snipers had had him in their sights but, out of pity for this madman, had not fired. That was their story. Mr Millin himself knew he wasn't going to die. Piping was too enjoyable, as he had discovered in the Boys' Brigade band and all through his short army career. And piping protected him.

The Nut-Brown Maiden

The pipes themselves were less lucky, injured by shrapnel as he dived into a ditch. He could still play them, but four days later they took a direct hit on the chanter and the drone when he had laid them down in the grass, and that was that. The last tune they had piped on D-Day was “The Nut-Brown Maiden”, played for a small red-haired French girl who, with her folks cowering behind her, had asked him for music as he passed their farm.

He gave the pipes later to the museum at the Pegasus Bridge, which he often revisited, and sometimes piped across, during his long and quiet post-war career as a mental nurse at Dawlish in Devon. On one such visit, in full Highland rig with his pipes in his arms, he was approached by a smartly dressed woman of a certain age, with faded red hair, who planted a joyous kiss of remembrance on his cheek.

The Economist

This is what he piped.

This last clip features interviews with Bill and his Commander during his lifetime as well as his funeral.


 

 daemon

72 Killed during Gun Confiscation in Boston

BOSTON

National guard units seeking to confiscate a cache of recently banned assault weapons were ambushed on April 19th by elements of a para-military extremist faction. Military and law enforcement sources estimate that 72 were killed and more than 200 injured before government forces were compelled to withdraw.

Speaking after the clash, Massachusetts Governor Thomas Gage declared that the extremist faction, which was made up of local citizens, has links to the radical right-wing tax protest movement. Gage blamed the extremists for recent incidents of vandalism directed against internal revenue offices. The governor, who described the group's organizers as "criminals," issued an executive order authorizing the summary arrest of any individual who has interfered with the government's efforts to secure law and order. The military raid on the extremist arsenal followed wide-spread refusal by the local citizenry to turn over recently outlawed assault weapons.

Gage issued a ban on military-style assault weapons and ammunition earlier in the week. This decision followed a meeting in early this month between government and military leaders at which the governor authorized the forcible confiscation of illegal arms.

One government official, speaking on condition of anonymity, pointed out that "none of these people would have been killed had the extremists obeyed the law and turned over their weapons voluntarily." Government troops initially succeeded in confiscating a large supply of outlawed weapons and ammunition. However, troops attempting to seize arms and ammunition in Lexington met with resistance from heavily-armed extremists who had been tipped off regarding the government's plans. During a tense standoff in Lexington 's town park, National Guard Colonel Francis Smith, commander of the government operation, ordered the armed group to surrender and return to their homes. The impasse was broken by a single shot, which was reportedly fired by one of the right-wing extremists. Eight civilians were killed in the ensuing exchange.

Ironically, the local citizenry blamed government forces rather than the extremists for the civilian deaths. Before order could be restored, armed citizens from surrounding areas had descended upon the guard units. Colonel Smith, finding his forces overmatched by the armed mob, ordered a retreat.

Governor Gage has called upon citizens to support the state/national joint task force in its effort to restore law and order. The governor also demanded the surrender of those responsible for planning and leading the attack against the government troops. Samuel Adams, Paul Revere, and John Hancock, who have been identified as "ringleaders" of the extremist faction, remain at large.

And this, people...is how the American Revolution began.

April 19, 1775

Today

So I am finally writing again. I figured while I was doing some laundry this morning I could jot down
some words and bring this space up to date on my current happenings. I slept in a bit today as I was a bit worn out from all the parties and celebrations yesterday and am currently catching up on a few things around the house before my I start my day properly.

I managed to get the holiday and today off and for that I am incredibly thankful. Unfortunately, my Mom had other ideas for today and called me to let me know that I had been volunteered to head over to my sister's house to do all her yard work before she gets back from Peru. This is NOT what I had in mind today at all and after jumping through some mental hoops regarding familial manipulation, the cost benefit analysis to me and the logic behind why it DID make sense for me to do this, I finally relented. All of that last bit was in my head at least, so I still manage to look like the loving and helpful older brother. (aside: I really still cannot figure out why this responsibility is mine. She has a boy in her neighborhood that mows the yard each week. Why couldn't HE trim all the hedges and manicure the landscaping?) There is nothing quite like an old fashioned guilt trip from Mom to get me motivated. I realize that I am being a bit petulant and selfish about this whole circumstance but it does get old to always be the one giving to others for absolutely nothing in return. /rant

Yesterday was a smashing success. In light of today's scheduled events, I am rather happy that I managed to pack so much fun into one 24 hour period. I got up early, washed and waxed my car, took a long drive around the lake and out in the country and then started dropping in on the different pool parties and BBQ's that I had been invited to. In short, I had a blast. I met a lot of new people, caught up with old friends that I had not seen in quite some time and managed to get some grill time in with some great people. All told, I went to two pool parties and two BBQ's and then a huge group of us went out to Riverfest to watch the fireworks and listen to some live music. A great day indeed. I need to have more days like that or at least remember to start requesting off a few days from work when I have the opportunity to get together with friends. I also managed to pick up quite a bit of sun, thankfully no sunburn to speak of, and got MORE than my share of eye candy. It felt good to be flirting again. I didn't realize that was something that could be missed. Well done Kansas and Missouri! This current crop of gay guys you have produced is one fantastic array of male specimens.

Has my washer always been this slow? I have a load of linen and towels in there and it seems to be taking forever! I really want to get all this done before I head out to my sister's house.

So that wraps up what I did for my holiday weekend  of sorts, but how am I really doing in life? Hmmm...that is not so easy a question to answer. I am still throwing myself into work. There have been a lot of changes in the last few weeks there, namely personnel and management restructuring that has had little effect on my day to day operations. I pretty much work, run errands and come home each day and have been carrying on with the necessities that make my life work for me. There have been some highs and lows, as can be expected and I still feel that I am in some type of transitional phase in life right now. Toward what or in what exact direction internally still remains to be seen.

It does feel good to write something here. The last few weeks I have been more internally focused. New music, reading some amazing books and generally keeping to myself. We have had some amazing weather and I guess I am just over here living. I still have so many questions that are unanswered but I am learning to become content with living in that state of tension, if you will. I get one day at a time, like we all do, and no amount of straining or wishing is going to allow me to see my own future. I will be what I am now becoming. I hope you all are well and thanks for stopping by to read my junk here. I wish it was more exciting but it is what it is. Have a better day!

daemon

All American Boy

Lived this more than once.

daemon

Remembering Pride

I realize I haven't said much here lately. I'm working on it. In the meantime, smile and remember with me some of the moments we have all shared either personally or vicariously.

To all of you still scared and hiding for any myriad of reasons, "It does get better. Hold fast."

daemon

Bill and John : More Than Ever

Friends, stories like this are the reason we should all be fighting for everyone’s right to marry whomever they love.

daemon

Play back

Without meaning to, I found myself lost in music this evening for several hours and took a long musical
journey all the way back to times I had forgotten, back to a place where I was a different me. I sat down at my piano and just started to play. I guess somewhere along the way I got lost.

One song led to another and with each finished chord and note my mind would grasp out and remember some forgotten song that I had learned along the way and the time and years flew by. It is strange how melody and music captures time and space for me. Some of these songs and tunes I literally had not played since high school and before and with each recalled note I found myself taking new steps in memory. Faces and places just seemed to drift across the back drop of my closed eyes, and while my chops and fingers aren't quite as crisp as they once were, I really was transported back to spaces in my mind and heart that have been untouched for oh, so many years.

I am not ashamed to admit that I cried. I wept. The tears came and went. Sometimes the music was loud, furious and passionate as I struggled to recall the classical pieces that I sweated and worked over back when I was a boy. Other moments were quiet, sweet and serene as my soul mused over a forgotten love or distant place I once saw or lived in. So many faces. Such different scenery of the heart. Somewhere in the moment of it all, I started singing. While half aware that on a Sunday night that the neighbors were all out in yards, on decks and patios and enjoying the beautiful weather, after a while I was simply lost in the music. I didn't care what they heard.  I didn't care that they heard. While I have rarely been able to play or sing for others in my life, this night I sang for me. I sang for all of them in my past. I sang and poured out my heart for all those years gone by. The kid that I was. The boy I became. The gangly adolescent who didn't quite ever fit in. The student. The sailor. The man. Even now, I still am a bit overwhelmed and am simply hoping to capture something here that seems to be slipping away from me. I

But I know where to find it.

It lives in my piano. It resides in my voice. All of that life and love is in my heart. It was never gone. It was merely left idle. Frozen in time by music just waiting to be released by my fingers and raw emotion. How strange to have let this gift gather dust for so long? Such a way to pour out that deep pool that so often lies silent and still.

Damn.

It felt good.

daemon

Missing Husband

*Sigh*

Today is not a good day. Normally I come here with hope and expectation, sharing my latest adventures
and describing what is going on in my life. I am not used to bad days. In fact, I am not used to feeling upset and out of sorts at all. Maybe it is part of the curse of my nature, but regardless of circumstances, I usually remain positive, lighthearted and attempt to find the good in each and every situation.

This day, I just cannot muster the energy to put a smile on my face and recapture the spring that is normally in my step. I am down and I feel blue. I feel strange and vaguely guilty for even sharing that much. I don't feel well and while today is a beautiful day, I just can't seem to get out of this slump.

What is bothering me, someone might ask? I guess someone would ask if there was anyone around to ask me that, but I find myself alone. I am alone a lot. Besides work and occasionally seeing my family, I  am usually by myself. I would have never cast myself as a loner, but it seems that as years have gone by, the close people who were intrinsically involved in my daily life have moved along. I really did not notice their passing until I found myself here. I am not even sure if I took the time to say goodbye. All that I know is that I looked up today and needed desperately someone to talk to and there was just me in mirror.

My phone is full of the numbers of people that I never call and that never call me. I don't even know why I have their numbers. I guess at one point they did call me but somewhere along the way, I got lost. I think I have wandered away so far this time, that people have forgotten that I was there in the first place. Even if I were to call these people, what would I tell them? The connections that we once had have unraveled and faded, and to be honest, who wants a random phone call from a person that you used to know who is now lonely and upset about so many things that he cannot control?

I feel strange. I have all day. Maybe I have for a long time and have used busyness and work as a shield and cover to take the edge off all the empty that I feel. My 'give a damn' is busted and I don't even know where to find a new one, much less any parts to fix the broken one that I have. Is this what sadness feels like? I never really imagined that depression was an actual real phenomenon, but today it no longer seems like a unknown and distant reality. I just am not happy, not with me, not with anything. I realize my perspective is flawed and I probably am experiencing some form of tunnel vision while in this mental fugue, but it is how I feel now.

If I put things down on paper, the reality that I experience daily does not seem that dark or bad. I am sure that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of other people who would love to trade lives with me. Not even that thought bounces me back up. All I can see is what I do not like. I most assuredly do not like this feeling. I wonder when it will go away? I am not even really sure why it is here. I make mistakes. I learn from them. I move on. Some I keep making over and over again. I am not learning anything except that life hurts sometimes. Badly.

That is all that comes to mind at the moment. I am having a blue day. My stomach feels like it is in knots, my whole body aches and my mind keeps whirling down, up and around on the same thoughts, fears and questions in a repetitive loop. I would just go take a nap and hope to feel better when I got up but somehow I have to plaster a smile on my face, polish up and enjoy dinner with my family tonight for my Dad's birthday. My Mom will know something is up. Mom's always know. It's like there is something in my eyes she can read like a Post-It note.

Everything is going to be okay. It always is. It always has been. So why do I feel so fucking miserable?

daemon

Today

Hello Constant Reader,

There have been many times in this past month where I have paused to sit down and share here the thoughts and musings of my mind, but at each happenstance and moment, some circumstance, situation or idle quirk would draw my mind away to another place and leave this space blank. This could have been easily rectified if I would have but carved out some space and time to truly work things out in my head, but life, in its own fickleness, has a way of passing us by.

So tonight, here I sit with some time on my hands. The day has been cool and gray with a magnificent thunderstorm this afternoon that I napped my way through after work. I did not realize how tired I had become but after waking up five hours later, I felt much refreshed. Can I still call a sleep that long a nap? I guess since it occurred in the afternoon, it still qualifies for such a moniker.

With the weather as my inspiration, I decided this evening to do some baking after dinner. My meal was a simple affair of Pasta with Italian Sausage and a Garlic and Olive oil based Marinara Sauce, some fresh steamed Broccoli de Rapa and a light green Salad. Sometimes the more simple repasts are the most enjoyable. After browsing through many recipes I decided on an Apple Cake. My little sister, before she left for Peru this week, had given me a bag of fresh apples and I thought with this weather something including apples, cinnamon, walnuts and butter would be a great treat, plus would make the house smell incredible and homey.

So what have I been up to besides living and work? That really isn't an easy question to answer. I could list the activities that have filled my time, but that would only give you a rough schedule of events that wouldn't even scratch the surface of the journey my heart and head has been on since I last sat here and truly penned my days. I know that I am growing, but in what direction and in what spaces, I still have yet to see. The changes I have sensed and alluded to in the past are slowly coming to fruition, but this seems like such a slow process, at least to me, a person rather interested in seeing results quickly. Life's timetable moves of its own accord and I am having to content myself with the wait. I think that possibly, it is in this waiting is where the growing happens.

Spring is here and Summer will soon be upon us. For many and diverse reasons these are the favorites of my temporal seasons. I find myself in the part of the years where smiles find me easiest but I am still plagued by a restlessness that there is either something that I am missing, or something more that I should be pursuing. It is almost as if the anticipation of this time has greatly exceeded the reality of living in it or it is completely possible that I am missing something entirely. It is too early to quite tell. I am content now with the beautiful weather and seeing new things come to life all around me. Perhaps I am just to wait quietly, keep my head and eyes up and watch. I know nothing in my life that I have attempted to force to happen has ever resulted in something worthwhile.

I wish there were copious insights and profound lessons that I could share about the time that has past lately, but in truth, my life is simple. I don't have any complex problems that I am wrestling with. My inclusion of others in my days do not create drama, strife or conflict that would generate anything of note. I much prefer it that way, but I do long for some excitement, something to stir me up and prompt something new. Maybe that is not the season I am in currently? This is not the winter of my discontent, but rather the spring of my quiet happiness. Who knows?

For now, I work each day. I read new books. I play outside in the sun and the rain. I work in my gardens and yard. I spend time with family and friends when I choose to. I drive my car down curvy country roads and smile like an idiot to each song. I listen to good music and search for more. I play piano for myself. I sit and muse to myself over coffee in public. I see the sunrise and sunset each day. I am living. I hope that you are as well.

daemon