Happy new year or ‘Oy vey’ yo musician and activist Si Kahn

dc740a07-12a2-435e-8f0d-de0d6c87bdd1I had repressed the memory but suddenly recall his wonderful workshop how old a Dartmouth spring of my junior year

964666EC-EA6C-4B5C-82C9-D9D383DD4D1C.jpegTwo thousand seventeen  lifetime achievement award from the folk alliance   .

Maybe EarthWise productions can bring him out here.

i May be confusing Si Kahn with Saul Alinsky.

he was not too longly up in North Bay for a show about Sarah o gun gunning

edit to add: this just in: there is a Si Kahn play opening this month in Cornelius, North Carolina, “Mother Jones in Heaven“:

mojo poster

I can’t picture making it out to Carolina for this show –although I did take the train from Palo Alto to Raleigh to see Mary Michele Little’s fashion show, but I was so much younger then, I’m older than that now. I did also once see and photograph Mother Jones’ tombstone memorial at the Union Memorial Cemetery in Mount Olive, Illinois – -right on the Route 66 — it’s about 250 miles from Chicago, and equidistant from St. Louis or Springfield.

I cannot locate the digital correspondence of that photo of Mother Jones’ resting place — perhaps a portal to Mother Jones in heaven, but I did find this photo from thereabouts – of a blue sky over the midwestern plane near Atlanta, Illinois (sic):

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I also have some silos. pictures of other moter vehichles, the Atlanta library, a main street, et cetera.

 

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Shedroff Farms Revisited

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First off, I want to note here that I just learned, researching this post, that Joshua Redman has lost his mother, as of November, 2016. I saw him play in June at Stanford, about a month before I lost my own mom, Barbara Weiss. His mother was Renee Shedroff, of Berkeley, a librarian and dancer, and the sister of Alan Shedroff, a friend of my parents, also now deceased. Alan’s sons are Daniel and Nathan Shedroff, former neighbors, shulmates in San Jose and Los Altos Hills, and classmates of mine in Palo Alto, ages 10 thru 18. I recall seeing Daniel, his mom and his son, at a reunion in 2007 and Nathan recently at our 35th/36th. We are all 53/54/55 now.

I’m the only person who calls jazz sax wizard Josh Redman Joshua Shedroff. I’ve never met the man and seen him play maybe 3 to 5 times. The first time, I’m certain, was at Knitting Factory New York, probably with John Medeski, which I found thrilling. Josh was known as Shedroff I think thru his days at Harvard — you used to be able to find on the internet a story about him under that name from the Crimson. He famously turned down Yale Law to play music fulltime, after winning the Monk competition.

I bought a ticket online this morning — maybe the very last ticket in the house — to see Josh Redman lead a band that is a tribute to Wayne Shorter, the culmination of three days of such. (It was supposed to be a residency for Shorter but at 80, that proved to be a tenuous booking — we also saw him on tv recently being feted at the Kennedy Center; filmed in October of last year).

So even though I respect Redman — I used to have a book of 1,001 sax players, and a wee bit of tea on them — I managed a man who won 2nd place in the Monk two cycles later — what sold me on the show is the sidemen.

This started out — in my head — as an Impulse to post some esoteric impressions of the band Sunday (which I will be sussing out after a weekend of four or so NFL playoff games on the tube).

But it also digressed into a photo essay not at all about jazz — in the way that Plastic Alto is hardly strictly about Ornette. I was looking for the photos of Josh from June and clicked on ten or more other images from that period. I found a picture of my mom making eye contact with me. A short, short video –a vine — about a month before she passed and about seven years after her dementia and Alzheimers presented. I may be the last time I felt she looked me in the eye with recognition.

And this is an odd place to say this but: thank you Beth Custer, the reeds player, for taking the train from SF to Palo Alto — I almost said taking A train — on my mom’s 85 birthday to play for her then again two months before she passed, only to be told my mom’s caregivers that the music would disturb her nap.

Heck, I’ll do the photo stream first then circle back to bits about the band I’m obviously obviating towards or forwards (coined term: rhymes with “chords”).

In reverse chron order:

  1. Josh Redman, sax; and Aaron Goldberg, piano, June, 2018 at Stanford’s Bing.
  2. Josh Redman band at Bing — by the way, he has a separate project called James Farm whose name is the source of this headline (“Shedroff Farms Revisited”). He also Still Dreaming with Ron Miles, Scott Colley & Brian Blade.
  3. Hadar Shemtov and Mark Weiss at Bing concert — or I like to call this “Jews With Halos” ie we are backlit.
  4. BHW
  5. This is my dog, Duffy and a human posed with Duffy just for size comparisons. (It’s actually a close friend but he is camera and publicity shy — both of the previous photos might be subject to editing –if you see them now you may not see them later). That’s the nature of this medium, init?
  6. There’s no photo of this — and if there was it would not be chronological the way the others are — but thank you musician and music agent Eli Windau of Cincinnatti and New York area for teaching me the word “autocowrecked”. I can probably post a screen capture of the exchange just for yucks.
  7. Guillermo Gomez Abascal, of Mexico City and Oaxaca Oaxaca, a dear friend and a dean at Iberra-America University, reacting to Mexico’s early round prowess in the 2018 World Cup, which I watched diligently, and partook in some festives as well. That’s a selfie he took in his apartment and digged me (coined term combining “digital” and “dig” as in “appreciate”, as an active verb — don’t worry, editorial help is coming!)
  8. 16289a60-4f39-4dc0-8a95-9ecf00df7be1Four Mexican men forming a human pyramid, on my tv, as my right foot and part of my knee or calf look on. (I can research and add the name of the goal scorer: 25th minute Mexico v. Korea).
  9. 50590a02-57c2-4a54-a009-e3e1f0afd011

    take a memo

  10. a90bead1-8272-48b7-a251-ee3d778e9426my wife and mother in law
  11. my wife TMW Terry Acebo Davis and dog — I like that she is reading arts section of New York Times. I like the weird refractions. She looks like Doc Oc — who is a villain in a movie about comics I saw just yesterday.
  12. My dog Duffy (not necessarily named for the legendary and champion coach of Michigan State Spartans football, circa 1966) testing tensile strength of his leash or checking me for ALS, or we are at tug-of-war. Bubba Smith was unbeatable at this. Or so I hear.
  13. Three corporate hench men from the worlds one or two software social media companies, explaining their greed, to a local crowd at Cafe Zoe in Menlo Park. I heckled them, calling them out on their disingenuity. One of them, I spoke to later, and liked, despite his role in destroying everything we have built (potentially; yes, I’m a jeremiad). The other guy, the main speaker guy, was a former Clinton or Obama low level administrator. I.e. neo-liberal. He literally said “pity us or sympathize, because Silicon Valley is losing its lustre and I yelled out that that sounds funny coming from a guy repping a company with $400 B valuation, but I then looked it up and was only half right: the current valuation of his company is more like (TK). I have a 30 second clip I can transcribe and publish above.
  14. 4c1f5248-8744-4311-adcc-fe5bfc87222fThis is me posing as a second baseman, on Upper Market street, before a Giants game this summer, photo by NP.  I am unsure the distinction between memoir and solispsism, but, again, help is on the way!
  15. This is its own thing but: upside down dog by Scholder, at a gallery in Santa Fe.
  16. my dog sleeping on his back — Terry thought the dog in the monotype looked dead;
  17. This is a screen capture of an email from a while ago but I thought to include it because the list of musical personnel resembles the list at bottom of this post, of the jazz people I will see Sunday, lwatcdr. I’ll have to — on my own time — find this email by searching ‘”Uptown” and “Christine” in my yahoo file. To respond.
  18. another all type thingy: I like that thing about boots on the neck, and getting them off us.
  19. My hand and a sticker from Italy and Walgreens with Belgian football star Romelu Lukaku.
  20. street scene, street fair, University Avenue Palo Alto, Father’s Day, 2018 that is June 17 or so, a group of high schoolers performing under the name Garage Mahal, which is also the name of a jazz group, some of whose members likely play or have played with members of Josh Redman fellowship. (I’ve published below similar shots or crops emphasizing the vocalist. Actually it just occurs to me, seven months later that the singer and the bassist are both of Indian descent, which makes their name more fitting.
  21. f42fed02-4329-406d-930f-3c9e0f7e266dSinger-songwriter Gaby Castro who I’ve met three times now including a benefit at a wine bar for Palo Alto’s Project Safety Net;
  22. ef4d484f-7bbe-4d53-b1b2-6bc4fd16a04eOk, I love this pic — again, at the street music event we sometimes, 10 years running, call Fete De La Music, Make Music Palo Alto or Palo Alto World Music Day: Palo Alto Jazz Quintet featuring David Brigham, trumpet; Dan Adams, drums; David Deneau, sax; Terrigal Burn, piano –cropped; and the bassist. I am meaning to say Dan Adams is one of my alltime favorite musicians — going back about 40 years — and in my IMHO could sit in with Joshua Redman or maybe already has.
  23. 889ad45a-ed4e-486d-8a58-9ca03b61c157

    Essence and Bernie: quite a story

    This just in: literally, from hours ago and not last June: my friend and near-client Essence Goldman pka Essence sent along an image culled from the SF Chron from their “YEAR IN PICTURES” that shows a firefighter in front of a giant wall of flame, and then she giving a hug to her friend, bandmate and client Bernie Dalton. God speed to Essence and Bernie.

  24. Joey Chang, pka Cello Joe at same event, June, 2018, and a fan demoing the bike-powered electricity generator created and managed by Paul Freedman, son of physics heavy-weight (!) Dan Freedman of MIT and SLAC — who coinkydinky I watched some of the World Cup with — he was a neighbor of my parents, in their building). Also, there is a cameo in bottom right by Karla Kane, the musician, mom and writer. (I also have photos of her young daughter, banging a tip jar bucket to the beat).
  25. bfbe4c60-c080-4238-a8b4-2ae2f9f7553fThis is a band I saw and liked, several times, around town. I am forgetting their name. John Brown’s Body? Maggie’s Farm? Parchman Part-timers? Henry and the Traumanauts? Roger and the Ramen Nagis? Waylon and the Way-Outs? Waylon and the Weightless? (There’s a photo of sequence or burst I love and have not fully posted, full-mast, of me dropping a bag of books while standing in front of a Magritte painting very similar to an image that the physicist Dan Freedman used on the cover of his book about super-gravity. Get it? I was demonstrating gravity in Muybridge/Iphone as an inside joke to my friend the genius gravity guy).
  26. 57d8df18-2dd3-4b78-8af2-b75be61d612fThis is not like most of these a group of fellow humans, or musical, but it is a cool image created by Greg Willensky a friend who works at Adobe and has a PhD, one day while he and I and another guy were walking to Fort Mason from the Marina.
  27. Mary Halvorsen in a tri-led group at SF Jazz; Thomas and Michael?
  28. 007c931f-e8cf-49ef-aaf8-2a69696cb6d1a nice couple I met at a Peruvian bar on Market — not far from SF Jazz — who were describing their musical project to me, but I lost their number. Holler! (I’m always trolling or trawling in six spider-verses for the next big thing. The other day in the time it took my rideshare driver to go from De Young to USF we traded numbers and he later sent me not music files but sexy photos. I wrote back: “more MP3s, less pecs.” (I’ll spare you, dear reader, that one, although it is relatively impressive; he also had nice hair).
  29. As David Shields says, when I write about David Shields I write about myself. I am posting this one –taken by the musicians from 27 — to show my FCB jacket when it was less faded and me speaking of pecs or lack thereof in terms of definition or too much in terms of flab I am at my marriage weight of 180 or so and not normal now of 205. I guess it was fun adding back the extra 25 pounds. Half of that was Ramen Nagi, I’m certain. (Of Ramon and the Noodlers fame).
  30. This is a german visual artits or germanvisualartist at Joey Piziales Romer Young Gallery on 22nd near the train. Yesterday I was photographing the mural tryptich in Palo Alto featuring Joey and David Huffman and Chris Johanson.
  31. Maybe that goes here too: I meant to addend this to the previous post but here is a nice guy who is FSO and formerly US Army, in Sinai (although he said first “Egypt”) from Sacramento: thank you for your service — I was shooting the mural then asked his permission to be in the shot; we actually re-shot it. But I did not say I would describe him.
  32. This is Joey’s gallery. Joey the artist not Joey the musician. It would be cool if Cello Joe played at Romer Young.
  33. Similarly, this is Alice Li I think at Garden Fresh. I saw her yesterday at their Mountain View spot. And just for yucks I am going to microwave my leftover mock beef and real brocolli and brown rice and then eat same, then pick this up around 10:30. I have five more photos then the five musicians whose names are Joshua Redman, tenor saxophone (cousin of my classmates Nathan and Daniel Shedroff); Ambrose Akinmusire, trumpet (from Berkeley and Oakland; Peter Apfelbaum said one of two best along with Dayna Stephens young musicians he knew, when they were all at Stanford Jazz camp; and won the Monk; on Blue Note; Igbo, pretty sure and not Yorba; had his cell for a whiles; since 2008 I think, et cetera): Danilo Perez, piano (played on the Wayne Shorter tribute at Kennedy Center; is a cultural ambassador of his country to ours; owns a nightclub at the Ace Hotel in Panama City; gave the best clinic I have ever seen, at a Redwood City Charter Middle School, for Music For Minors, in 2000); John Patitucci, bass (don’t know, but I think I knew his former or current manager, Robin Tomchin, who also manages or managed Danilo — who called her “Mami” — and also works with Palo Altan whose parents were neighbors to Duffy’s former Mommy, Jana Herzen of Motema Records — which is the worlds record weirdest John Patitucci intro); Brian Blade, drums (whose fellowship played SFJazz big room — this one — Minor? — Miner? — simultaneouslike to my watching and LOVING Jeff Parker New Breed, Parker who has an avail I think in January — too soon — with Scott Amendola, wbose wife and kids, like Josh Redman and me, are Jewish — and that is a worse intro for Blades than I just did for JP: hey, Jazz Gods and other readers of Plastic Alto: what about a Brian Blades Jeff Parker Duo BBJP? I’m jest saying.
  34. Good luck to the Eagles against the Bears, for the hospital guy who worked Terry’s shift yesterday so she’d do his Sunday. (Reminds me of the time I bought a Zuni fetish for Dr. John at Yoshis). Edit to add: I’m looking for a word that maybe starts with”o” and means salivate or anticipate then will redact and obviate my soot  above.
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Spider-Man Miles Morales by Stan Lee and Sara Pichelli w Green guitar mouth playing traumanaut (2006) by David Huffman

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From public art mural triptych “untitled” Stanley Bishop corporation 2006

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Action Bat Mitzvah photographer

This gallery contains 9 photos.

      1. Of these nine photos found on the Internet, from the same photographer, purportedly of bat mitzvahs, numbers three and seven seem traditional to me: one is a young woman at the Torah; the other is a … Continue reading

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Female athletes posed, 1948 and 2018

The first image is from an AP Wire Photo of Oakland High School athlete Zoe Ann Olsen, who won the AAU Diving Championships and went on to medal twice for the U.S. in Olympic competition. The photo is from Wikipedia commons:

ZOEANNOLSEN1948APWIREPHOTO

 

The second image is a posed publicity shot from a series commissioned by Stanford athletics by local photographer Jeff Bartee of Saratoga, featuring junior Kyla Bryant of Lake Oconee, Georgia. Bartee’s website has a previous series using the dust special effect. I met Bryant briefly Monday when she dropped by The Old Pro bar trying to place a poster.

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By Jeff Bartee fair use

Olsen incidentally later married Cal football star Jacke Jensen who is one of only two people to play in both the Rose Bowl and World Series, along with Stanford Chuck Essegian; I found my way to Olsen-Jensen today because of an article in the Chron about the 1919 Black Sox scandal; one of the eight banned players was from Oakland High, Chuck Gandil, who some consider the mastermind of the event.

edit to add: speaking of which, I edited out the dust stuff, from Bryant. Or, I can get the whole shot on my MacBook, but it has a cardinal red bar obscuring the balance beam. Not sure why only the smartphone version lets you separate the picture from the border. On Olsen Jensen, the Des Moines newspaper website has another photo plus this long article about her induction into both the state athletic hall of fame and another honor:

Zoe Ann Olsen was born in Council Bluffs in 1931, reared in LaPorte City and learned to swim at age 2 1/2. Why not? her father, Art, managed the municipal pool in Cedar Falls and her mother, Norma, taught swimming.

Mrs. Olsen also taught dancing and the couple was pleased that Zoe Ann became a toe-tapping terror, whose first medal, when not quite 4, came for dancing. Additionally, she was a blonde doll who could pout or cry on command.

“I entered her in a dance contest and she won a trip to Hollywood at 6,” recalls Norma. “The two of us went to California for the summer and she appeared in two plays in the Edda Edson Theater Workshop.”

Several other things happened. Zoe Ann tappy-toed around, including a guest appearance with the Hollywood Starlets, won third place in a junior diving meet and remained unconcerned when some projected her as a “new Shirley Temple.”

“I knew who Shirley Temple was, but never imagined I was going to be another,” Zoe Ann scoffed the other day by telephone from Crystal Bay, Nev., where she is now Mrs. Don Bramham.

Indeed, while the world did not gain a new first mate for the Good Ship Lollipop, it soon was to hail Zoe Ann Olsen as a springboard diver supreme, winner of 14 national titles, plus a silver medal in the 1948 Olympics and a bronze in 1952.

There’s more. The lovely 5-foot 4-inch, 119-pounder, by then a Californian, was three times nominated for the James E. Sullivan award as the nation’s outstanding amateur athlete, woman or man.

Is it any wonder that today she becomes the 86th member of The Des Moines Sunday Register’s Iowa Sports Hall of Fame.

IT’S A FABULOUS tale if you only go back as far as when the “unofficial queen of the 1948 Olympics” came home from London to Oakland to marry Jackie Jensen, the Golden Boy who was an all-american running back for California but opted to play outfield for the New York Yankees.

Reporters lurked behind convenient trees and photographers kept the glamour couple visible, flashing such news that her wedding gown and silver medal had been stolen from the car when she drove into New York City to join Jackie.

Fully intending for it to be permanent, Zoe Ann retired from competitive diving about year later and gave birth to the first of their three children, a son named Jan.

Jensen had two years as Yankee property before being traded to the Washington Senators. After nothing more strenuous than occasional exhibitions for several years, Zoe Ann started eyeing the ’52 Games.

“It just started eating on me,” she confesses. “I looked around and nobody was really that good. So we talked it over and I decided to make an effort.”

Would you believe that she made the U.S. team after only two weeks of serious work? Norma went back to baby-sitting, Art came east to do the coaching as he had almost always done, and the bronze medal followed.

IT WAS PREVIOUSLY stated that the story was fabulous from 1948 on. Before that, it was nigh on the unbelievable. It has not been mentioned, for instance, that LaPorte City did not have a pool, let alone a diving board.

“Zoe Ann was a good dancer but really outstanding in acrobatics,” says Norma. “The closest proper diving board was in Waterloo and those were the days of gas rationing. So we got a trampoline for the back yard.”

Little Miss Olsen went out and tossed, twisted and turned under the expert guidance of her father — an 11-letter winner at Northern Iowa and a coach and principal at the local high school.

“I remember. I remember,” says Zoe Ann. “I enjoyed the tramp when it wasn’t cold but I had to be pushed in the winter. It was like bouncing on rubber cement and the wind penetrated my little ol’ snow suit.”

On the rare trips to the YWCA pool in Waterloo, she had to stand in line for turns on the board. Yet, at 11, Zoe Ann won the state indoor and outdoor titles for women.

She claimed her first national title at 12, the 1943 Junior Amateur Athletic Union crown, and the Athens Athletic Club of Oakland invited the yound Iowan phenom to compete under its banner.

“I had thought of moving to California before that,” recalls Art, now retired in Oakland. “I was going into the service so we moved west to give Zoe Ann a chance to develop in good circumstances.”

THE 14 TITLES — one- and three- meter boards, indoors and out — were spread from 1943 through 1949, the last coming a month before her marriage to Jensen.

There was much more than diving and dancing (she also was into ballet) for Olsen. She played the piano, violin, clarinet, sang, was a high school majorette and honor student who also gave autographs.

“I don’t think I thought much about my athletic future. Diving was there. It was what I was doing,” recalls Olsen, who was deprived of one shot at Olympic Gold in ’44 because there were no Games from ’36 until ’48.

Vicki Manoles Draves, the wife of former Iowan Lyle Draves, Zoe Ann’s coach during the two years her father was in the service, won the three-meter title in London. Olsen was second.

“I was the youngest on the team. On the back dive, the girl in front of me hit the board and they stopped competition for 30 minutes,” says Olsen. “I guess it got to me because I hit my heels on the next dive.”

Helsinki in 1952 was weird. In what may be an eternal Olympic record, she took one dive three times. On the first try, judges ruled that “a technical fault in the fulcrum of the springboard” had aborted her effort.

“In my state of nerves, I did not realize there was a rule I had to wait for the whistle. I just went up, did the dive again and it didn’t count because all the judges weren’t watching,” she says with a sigh.

Once more, after the whistle, was good enough to get her into the finals by two-tenths of a point. She was so sure later she hadn’t placed that she was taking a shower when the news of the bronze arrived.

“That was it. I was so tired of the pressures that I came home and turned professional, so I wouldn’t be tempted again,” she says.

JENSEN WENT on to play for the Red Sox and was the American League’s Most Valuable Player in 1958. Zoe Ann liked the life of a baseball wife, particularly in Boston. The marriage broke up in 1963, they were remarried 14 months later, then were divorced again in 1970.

“He was broke. No money for the children, no alimony, so I went to work as a blackjack dealer at Cal-Neva Lodge,” she says. “I really enjoyed it, but I can’t deal now because of my accident.”

Zoe Ann, who has been wed to Bramhan for five years, was taking down snow tires from overhead storage last fall when one tire went on a rampage, cracking her ribs, breaking a cheek bone and damaging nerves in a hand.

“I got my front tooth for Christmas,” quips the lady who is now a three-time grandmother. She still weighs about 110, hasn’t been on a diving board for 13 years but scuba dives and water skis.

She has a room full of trophies (about 150) and mementoes, not the least being proof that she and Norma, a pioneer in synchronized swimming coaching and promotion, are mother-daughter inductees in the Helms Foundation Hall of Fame.

And looking back, what was the best part of it all?

“There are still a lot of people who remember,” she finally said, after a thoughtful pause. “The compliments. The compliments are the nicest part.”

(Note: Mrs. Olsen Jensen, who they describe as a 3-time grandmother, was born the same year as my mother, who died last year, or nearly six months ago. A lot of my recent posts are tributes to my mom or dad; by Maury White for The Register).

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edit to add: oh, dear; it appears that Mrs. Bramham (Olsen Jensen) had deceased in 2017; she was actually born five weeks before my mom, Barbara Jane Hayms; here is the obituary:

Zoe Ann Bramham left us on September 23, 2017 to be with her mother Norma Olsen (Tu-tu) and ALL her cats. She was born in Council Bluff, Iowa on February 11, 1931. She was raised by her parents, Art and Norma Olsen in LaPorte City, Iowa until the age of 12 when they moved to Oakland, California.

She was an accomplished diver on the one and three meter springboard. She won her first national diving championship at the age of 14. She went to the Olympics in London in 1948 where she won a silver medal. She took a break from diving and married Jack Jensen and gave birth to the first of three children, Jan (Lepke) in 1950. She started training for the 1952 Helsinki Olympics a week before the tryouts and made the team, where she won a bronze medal. She retired from diving and second child Jon came along in 1953 and her third, Jay in 1959. They settled in Crystal Bay, Nevada.

She raised her children while supporting her husband Jack who played professional baseball. They eventually divorced in 1970 and she stayed active locally in Crystal Bay, Nevada. She drove the first school bus for the Incline/Crystal Bay area. She gave swim lessons and was the lifeguard for the community pool in Incline. She worked the 1960 Winter Olympics as a gate keeper for the slalom and giant slalom events. Zoe became a local blackjack dealer at the Cal/Neva casino. There is where she would meet her future husband Don Bramham.

Don and Zoe were married in 1973 and stayed in Crystal Bay until 1988, then they moved to Stuart, Florida for Don’s job in government. Zoe being very independent enjoyed this new lifestyle. During this time she was an avid bowler. She became so good she made it to the national finals in St. Louis, Missouri. She would also play card games one day a week with Don’s brother Bill. They lived in Saudi Arabia for several years while Don worked for the government. They spent the next several years traveling often all over the world and on cruises with Zoe’s mother Norma in tow. After settling back in the states she enjoyed her passion, her cats. Always one or two, but never without a furry critter in the house. She could be seen walking the grounds of her house with the cats on a leash or by her side. They were inseparable.

She was loved by all.

She is survived by her husband of 45 years, Don. She was preceded in death by her son Jon and her grandson Jason Knapp. She is also survived by her children Jan Jensen-Lepke and Jay (Barbette) Jensen; her grandchildren Jaena Knapp, Scott Knapp, Zachary Burd, Nicholas (Brittney) Burd, Jacob Burd, Tucker Jensen, Jackie Jensen; her great-grandchildren Tayler, Kiley, Dawn, Jason, Adam, Aydden, Abel, and Graysen; her great-great-granddaughter Laila.

 

She is also survived by Don’s children Becky Gillespie (granddaughter Lauren, great-granddaughter Avery), Lynn Bramham and Mark Bramham. Please send any donations to your local hospice.

So, Mrs. Jensen Olsen Bramham of Oakland High and Iowa lived to meet 19 of her descendents, over four generations, god bless.

The Bramhams in Florida:

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Married 45 years

This is (andand) a weird segue — I guess Jackie Jensen is posed — but here is Norman Rockwell cover art The Rookie which features the baby Mom of Mrs. Olsen Jensen Bramham — that’s him tieing his shoe (in front of Ted Williams, who it is said did not go sit for Rockwell the way that JJ and 2 others did):

Norman_Rockwell_-_The_RookieTucker Jensen, one of Zoe Ann’s grandkids, played baseball for Embry Riddle of Daytona Beach, Florida, a D2 powerhouse.

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Something comparing crawl pace of a leopard tortoise to Dunne or Marvell stopping the sun

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Ready Player Tran

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Evil tech singularity already here, says ‘Matt O’Brien’ in today’s ‘San Jose Mercury’

William Gibson

Meredith Whitaker

Kevin McCarthy

Vint Cerf

b/w

humu v hono — one is a type of turtle, the other monitors “nudge”TM at work environment like Sweetgreen which of course we have in Downtown Palo Alto  the average Palo Altan is data point for tech dystopia fascism interests

 

 

 

 

 

7091B75F-18AB-456D-BDF4-3FF879A839CB.jpegAnd1:

“Turtles all the way down “I don’t know what this means. I don’t know what any of this means I think I have free will but this stupid handheld device I believe sometimes promised me prompt

andand:

Steinbeck quoted by Maria Popova, 1941:

It is interesting to watch the German efficiency, which, from the logic of the machine is efficient but which (I suspect) from the mechanics of the human species is suicidal. Certainly man thrives best (or has at least) in a state of semi-anarchy. Then he has been strong, inventive, reliant, moving. But cage him with rules, feed him and make him healthy and I think he will die as surely as a caged wolf dies. I should not be surprised to see a cared for, thought for, planned for nation disintegrate, while a ragged, hungry, lustful nation survived. Surely no great all-encompassing plan has ever succeeded.

edit to add, the following weekend: 1, bigger story about humu, in the Chron; 2, pretty random segue, from Rachel Howard’s dance blog, about a piece by a British choreographer named McGregor, performed years ago at SF Ballet, called “Eden/Eden” that is about excesses of technology; this, from Atlanta ballet reprise of piece, which also features a Steve Reich score:

British choreographer Wayne McGregor CBE joined us in the studios this week to oversee the final rehearsals for EDEN|EDEN, his futuristic ballet that will join James Kudelka’s The Four Seasons in Atlanta Ballet’s season opener.  His work focuses on genetic engineering and the posits questions about the ethics of cloning.  Learn more about the ballet before you go; check out the program notes below. Tickets are still available. Click here to purchase.

Program Notes From San Francisco Ballet World Premiere; March 13, 2007; War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco, CA By Cheryl A. Ossola

If Eden/Eden sparks debate among audiences, that’s only fitting. In this bold, unconventional ballet, created for Stuttgart Ballet in 2005, choreographer Wayne McGregor places the role of technology at the heart of an evolutionary and cautionary tale about the ethics surrounding the human body. Though he raises questions about the future of humanity as we face potentially devastating misuses of technology, he makes no attempt to provide answers. What he wants is discourse.

McGregor, a tall, lanky, philosophical young man, has been creating dances for nearly half his life. In 1992, armed with a degree in choreography from England’s University College, Bretton Hall, and training from some of the pinnacles of American modern dance, the intrepid 22-year-old started his own company, Random Dance (now Wayne McGregor | Random Dance). Though not trained in ballet, he has choreographed for such companies as Ballet Rambert, La Scala Ballet, Stuttgart Ballet, and The Royal Ballet, where he has been resident choreographer since 2006. He’s made dozens of dances for his company as well as for the Discovery Channel, BBC, Arte, TV commercials, theater productions, operas, youth dance companies, educational outreach programs, and feature films, including Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

Technology was at the forefront of many of McGregor’s early works, but what intrigues the choreographer most of late is the human body and its potential. “The body is a phenomenal piece of equipment. I think we underestimate it,” he said in 2007, during rehearsals with San Francisco Ballet (only the second company to perform it). In talking about Eden/Eden, McGregor posed unanswerable questions, the kind he thinks should be investigated before ethical decisions are made: “What does it mean when you clone yourself? If I cloned myself, what are the differences in us? What is it that makes you a human being? Is it biology? Is it skin and bones, muscle? Or is it something much more spiritual, something that makes you different even if someone has the same gene pool as you?” His existential ponderings led him to set his ballet in the traditional concept of the origins of man, Eden. The repetition in the title, he said, came from the idea that “there could be two Edens, many Edens. This idea of multiplicity exists in all of the piece, so I thought it should exist in the title.” In effect, McGregor took the name “Eden” and cloned it to make the title for his ballet.  Eden/Eden is set to Steve Reich’s spoken libretto/musical score for the third act of a 2002 filmic opera, Three Tales, devised by Reich and his filmmaker wife, Beryl Korot. “Dolly” (named for the cloned sheep) pits scientists against one another in a thoughtful debate about the ethics of cloning. McGregor had been thinking about exploring the theme of evolution, and he was so struck by the opera’s powerful message that he begged Reich to let him use it. (Reich had not envisioned a life for his work outside of the opera, but McGregor’s plea was so passionate that the composer acquiesced.) “I was convinced that something could be added to that experience of music, in a different context, and it could be quite eloquent,” said the choreographer. “Perhaps dance would contribute something to the debate. It could be quite powerful, but in a completely different way, not in a literal way.” The arguments and opinions posed in the work’s voice-overs are complex and thought provoking, and it’s easy for audiences to miss some of their content while focusing on the visual images before them. That’s fine with McGregor. “There’s something about the liveness of the voice that bears fruit upon the liveness of the body. But as far as understanding [the spoken content] literally, absolutely not. I want the audience to do a bit of work in creating meaning while they’re watching,” he said. The ballet opens with a single woman onstage; in McGregor’s Eden—and in a twist on Genesis—woman preceded man. She dances alone before a bare-limbed tree. Soon a man joins her, emerging from the earth—an apparent reference to his humanity—then a couple, then another. All are bald and costumed as if nude, essentially stripping them of their individuality and minimizing their gender. For the women, especially, this shift in focus away from their femininity emphasizes the body itself. “Seeing a woman with no hair is a very unusual aesthetic, and you see the body in a different way,” McGregor said. “I think what you see is its power and strength rather than its femininity. Often people say they see the woman as peaceful and the man as strong—very stereotyped—and I wanted to find a way of expressing bodies, or the potential of bodies, in a different way.”

Later in the piece, when the dancers let their hair free and don some clothing, they become more individual, and thus more human. It’s a fascinating transition. Musical and textual themes give the ballet its structure and propel the woman along on a journey of discovery. What McGregor found interesting about the score was that “the text is supported by particular rhythmic or musical environments. What Steve tried to do, it seems to me, is marry a particular kind of world with a particular kind of text. So already there’s kind of a collaboration between text and music that informs how you address the body.” He extrapolated some of the key messages of the score and made movement that expressed or supported those ideas. “The text inspires the making of the vocabulary, and that vocabulary exists in its own terms,” he said. In creating the ballet’s vocabulary, McGregor said he wanted the body to be the most extraordinary technological thing in sight, and his steps do seem to test the limits of human ability. Yet former SF Ballet principal dancer Muriel Maffre, who danced the role of the journeying woman in the San Francisco premiere, perceived the movement’s quality as more primitive than high-tech. “We went so far into technology that it went back into being raw and primordial, with that edge to it,” she said. “It touches me as being very brave.” The choreographer, who has had considerably more experience creating work than setting it on other companies, found the process of working with the San Francisco Ballet dancers revealing. “They’re teaching me something about the work I didn’t know,” he said. “All of a sudden I’m seeing these things, because the interpretation is different, with fresh eyes.

Some of the dancers’ interpretations give me more emotional value than some of the dancers at Stuttgart. It’s a completely different thing.” The cerebral approach McGregor takes to his subject matter was equally evident in the way he worked with the SF Ballet dancers. He told them exactly what he’d be watching for with each run-through. One time it was interpersonal relationships; another time he said he was looking for the dysfunctional in the body. “The sense of dysfunction takes a while to figure out,” said Maffre. “It’s very disorienting—we work all our lives to achieve harmonious movement. It was hard for me to achieve that with a sense of freedom.” What came more easily, she said, was what McGregor described as “interpolation rather than end points,” which to Maffre translated to “the journey from one movement to the other. It’s like coming home for me—I’ve always been interested in focusing on that.” McGregor is as articulate in expressing his ideas through dance as he is in words. With Eden/Eden he has taken the concept of the cycle of life and placed it in a man-versus-machine context. “I hope that the audience will go on a journey with [the central woman], that at the end you remember where she started and [realize] the extremity of her journey. You’ve gone through quite an aggressive series of images that’s unrelenting,” he said. “Technology is unrelenting in that way.” Still, the choreographer seems to suggest that in a face-off between mortals and machines, the odds are on us fallible humans. As chilling as some of the ballet’s images are, and as sobering its ruminations on our world’s uncertain future, McGregor appears to hold out hope that ultimately we will make choices that will guarantee the survival of the human race. As Maffre said, “any time you enhance awareness, it’s always with hope.”

daisuke of the chron jes yest “using data for happier employees’???

The Mountain View startup, Humu, builds on some of the people-analytics programs pioneered by the internet giant, which has studied things like the traits that define great managers and how to foster better teamwork.

On the dance, another review, locally, older, mentioned “Philip K. Dick”.

andandand: maybe it’s me, but I have had a difficult time, several times, keeping the names straight: hulu, humu, huhu, hono, hana, haha, hilo, hi-ho. Homo?

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‘Momma, ooh wooh hoof’

7BB94EB8-7AD0-4A15-A92B-DC6E13A01F43For BHW, (1931-2018)

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This lady walked into the bar with a poster of she and her teammates, prompting a serious amount of sussing and Mulling What it’s all about.

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Hipster alert in the 650

Hipster alert in the 650 as seen in the San Mateo daily journal : the “vinyl cutting “ event Thursday at the Belmont library is not about music, and the “book making” workshop  tomorrow at the South San Francisco community center is not about sports

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