Tuesday, April 16, 2019

April is an epic





This song has a very strange history for me. I heard it once, in 1968 I think, then it was stowed  at the back of my brain, filed under "something I heard once but will never hear again." And there it stayed, until a year or two ago.

I was standing in my sister's apartment in Toronto, with the FM radio on as usual. She had gone off to work, and I was alone with this enormous mug of coffee.  Then this music came on. It wasn't rock, it wasn't  pop, but almost had the mournful flavor of troubadour music. Or was it vaguely Spanish? There was a long sort of riff on guitar, and then without warning the music went orchestral. It was almost medieval-sounding, a sound of antiquity. The orchestrated middle passage led in to  a sort of primal wail on electric guitars, an updating of T.S Eliot's howl of grief and longing and impossible hope.

So the piece was a sort of trilogy, three disparate forms which somehow went together. My brain memorized every atom of  the piece, for some reason, and then at the end of it the announcer said, "April". And that was that.

No more memories or associations until much, much later, when I began to think about that medieval-sounding piece, whatever it was, wasn't it called April? That was literally all I had to go on. I had no idea what the group's name was or even what year it came outHow could I ever find it now? How! Within six minutes, or maybe it was six seconds, I had it up on YouTube, and for the length of it the hair stood up on my scalp and all over my body.

Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, that was it.

April is an epic, an example of how popular music of the '60s attempted to meld classical with rock. It's really three separate pieces that lead into each other, so I have to listen to them with three sets of ears. But it's good, very good, I might even say awesome if I ever used that word, to be reunited with this unique, quirky mystery, this paean to the month of Aries, this Rite of Spring. 




       April is a                            cruel time
               Even though the sun       may          shine 

And world looks in the 
shade                                                                       as it 

slowly comes away


Still falls the April 
rain

           And the valley's filled with            pain
And you can't tell me
 quite why

As I look up to the 
gray sky

Where it should be blue

Grey sky
where I should see you
Ask why,                                 why it should be so

I'll cry, say that                
I don't know


Baby once in a while

            I'll forget and              
I'll smile


But then                  
the feeling    comes       again

             of an April without end

Of an April 
     lonely as a girl
         In the dark of    my mind 

I can see all too fine

But there is nothing to be done when I just 
can't feel the sun

And the springtime's 
   the season of 
                          the night

Grey sky 
where it should be 
blue
Grey sky 
where I should see you

Ask why,      why it should be so

     say that      
I don't know            
      I don't know


I don't know


Monday, April 15, 2019

Death by cassowary


A cassowary, a rare emu-like bird, attacks and kills Florida man, officials say




Cassowaries have a long claw on each foot and are considered dangerous, experts say.

By Deanna Hackney and Eliott C. McLaughlin, CNN

Updated 11:40 AM ET, Sun April 14, 2019




(CNN)A cassowary, a giant bird with long claws on each foot, killed its owner after he fell in the backyard of his Gainesville, Florida, home, officials told CNN.




The bird's owner, Marvin Hajos -- who is 75, according to CNN affiliate WCJB -- made the initial call to 911 Friday about 10 a.m. ET. A second call came from another person at the scene who reported a medical emergency involving a large bird, said Lt. Joshua Crews of the Alachua County Sheriff's Office.





Hajos was transported to a nearby hospital, where he died, the lieutenant said. The cassowary remains on Hajos' property as authorities conduct an investigation into the attack, he said.









The owner was a breeder of the rare bird that is native to Australia and New Guinea, Alachua County Deputy Fire Chief Jeff Taylor said.
The death was an accident, officials said. It appears the man fell, and the cassowary attacked him after the fall, Taylor said.








The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission considers cassowaries Class II wildlife, meaning they pose a danger to humans and are subject to specific cage requirements. Owners must also have "substantial experience" with the animals, the commission says.
Class II is the same category as alligators, honey badgers and clouded leopards, while Class I includes more traditional predators such as a lions, tigers and bears.






The cassowary is a "large, flightless bird most closely related to the emu," according to the San Diego Zoo. It can run up to 31 mph through dense underbrush, jump almost 7 feet into the air and is a skilled swimmer, so it can deftly fend off threats, the zoo says.
They can grow more than 5 feet tall and the heaviest females can weigh more than 160 pounds, the zoo says. Males weigh up to 120 pounds.








"The cassowary is rightfully considered the most dangerous bird in the world!" the zoo says. "Each 3-toed foot has a dagger-like claw on the inner toe that is up to 4 inches (10 centimeters) long! The cassowary can slice open any predator or potential threat with a single swift kick."