Brownian Motion

Anastasia Ingrid Bergman Ingmar Bergman Clement Greenberg Harold Rosenberg Tom Wolfe

Hugh Masakela Dudu Pukwana Dodo Marmarosa Dody Al Fayad Roy Doty Little Dot

Dustin Hoffman Abbie Hoffman Abbe Lane Charo Robert Caro Robert Moses

Sam Andrew Jim Gurley Peter Albin Joe Albany Dusty Springfield Dusty Rhodes

Che GregM ariceffron

Betty Crocker Duncan Hines Duncan Renaldo Reunald Jones Wendell Culley Mario Bauza

Allen Bakke Jim Bakker Jim Backus Jimmy Mack Old McDonald Ray Kroc

Lyndon Larouche Landslide Lyndon Barry Goldwater

The Penguin Opus Tom Tomorrow

Holly Near Holly Hunter Holly Golightly

Ra Ma Joad Pa Kettle

Thurman Barker Bob Barker Bill Cullen Gary Moore Christy Moore Christo

We got back last night from visiting my sister and her husband in Raleigh, where on Friday we visited the Jane Goodall exhibition at the NC Museum of Natural History. I've always thought Jane was a babe, but this was the first time I paid as much attention to the Chimps as I did to Jane's legs. It was an excellent exhibit.

Willie Sutton Albert Anastasia Arnold Schuster Arnold Stang Thurman Arnold Judith Thurman

Jack Wilkins Jack Wilson Don Wilson Hack Wilson Stan Hack Maurice Stans

The folk musician John McCutcheon wrote a wonderful song about this event. Christmas in the Trenches by John McCutcheon My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool. Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school. To Belgium and to Flanders, to Germany to here I fought for King and country I love dear. 'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung, The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung Our families back in England were toasting us that day Their brave and glorious lads so far away. I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear As one young German voice sang out so clear. "He's singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me Soon, one by one, each German voice joined in harmony The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more As Christmas brought us respite from the war As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent The next they sang was "Stille Nacht." "Tis 'Silent Night'," says I And in two tongues one song filled up that sky "There's someone coming toward us!" the front line sentry cried All sights were fixed on one long figure trudging from their side His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shown on that plain so bright As he, bravely, strode unarmed into the night Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's Land With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home These sons and fathers far away from families of their own Young Sanders played his squeezebox and they had a violin This curious and unlikely band of men Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more With sad farewells we each prepared to settle back to war But the question haunted every heart that lived that wonderous night "Whose family have I fixed within my sights?" 'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost, so bitter hung The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war Had been crumbled and were gone forevermore My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell Each Christmas come since World War I, I've learned its lessons well That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame And on each end of the rifle we're the same © 1984 John McCutcheon -

Alexander Stephens Robert Toombs George Trenholm George Chisholm Nat Gonella Dave Wilkins

Steve Boone Joe Butler Zal Yanovsky My Gal Sal Thomas Jefferson Jefferson Davis

Happy Birthday!!

Goldie Hawn Don Goldie Golda Meir Ariel Sharon Flounder Sebastian

The New York Times November 22, 2005 Alfred Anderson, 109, Last Man From 'Christmas Truce' of 1914, Dies By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS LONDON, Nov. 21 (AP) - Alfred Anderson, the last surviving soldier to have been present when the guns fell silent along the Western Front in the spontaneous "Christmas Truce" of World War I, died Monday in Newtyle, Scotland. He was 109. He died in his sleep at his nursing home, said his parish priest, the Rev. Neil Gardner. More than 80 years after the war, Mr. Anderson recalled the "eerie sound of silence" as shooting stopped and soldiers clambered from trenches to greet one another Dec. 25, 1914. Born June 25, 1896, he was an 18-year-old soldier in the Black Watch regiment when British and German troops cautiously emerged from the trenches that Christmas Day in 1914. The enemies swapped cigarettes and tunic buttons, sang carols and even played soccer amid the mud, barbed wire and shell holes of no man's land. The informal truce spread along much of the 500-mile Western Front, in some cases lasting for days - alarming army commanders who feared fraternization would sap the troops' will to fight. The next year vast battles of attrition began, which claimed 10 million lives, and the Christmas truce was never repeated. "I remember the silence, the eerie sound of silence," Mr. Anderson told The Observer last year. "All I'd heard for two months in the trenches was the hissing, cracking and whining of bullets in flight, machine-gun fire and distant German voices," said Mr. Anderson, who was billeted in a French farmhouse behind the front lines. "But there was a dead silence that morning, right across the land as far as you could see," he said. "We shouted 'Merry Christmas,' even though nobody felt merry. The silence ended early in the afternoon and the killing started again. It was a short peace in a terrible war." During the war, Mr. Anderson served briefly as a batman - or valet - to Capt. Fergus Bowes-Lyon, brother of Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother. Captain Bowes-Lyon was killed at the Battle of Loos in 1915. Mr. Anderson fought in France until 1916, when he was wounded by shrapnel from a shell. In 1998, he was awarded France's Legion of Honor for his war service. He is survived by 4 children, 10 grandchildren, 18 great-grandchildren and 2 great-great-grandchildren.

Karen Valentine Hart Crane John Roebling

Mickey Mouse Mahatma Gandhi Lady Astor Huh??? Don't know how you got to , or what he has in common with and ← Baby, if I'm the bottom you're the top! Artist: Cole Porter Lyrics Song: You're The Top Lyrics At words poetic, I'm so pathetic That I always have found it best, Instead of getting 'em off my chest, To let 'em rest unexpressed, I hate parading my serenading As I'll probably miss a bar, But if this ditty is not so pretty At least it'll tell you How great you are. You're the top! You're the Coliseum. You're the top! You're the Louver Museum. You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss You're a Bendel bonnet, A Shakespeare's sonnet, You're Mickey Mouse. You're the Nile, You're the Tower of Pisa, You're the smile on the Mona Lisa I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop, But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top! Your words poetic are not pathetic. On the other hand, babe, you shine, And I can feel after every line A thrill divine Down my spine. Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans Might think that your song is bad, But I got a notion I'll second the motion And this is what I'm going to add; You're the top! You're Mahatma Gandhi. You're the top! You're Napoleon Brandy. You're the purple light Of a summer night in Spain, You're the National Gallery You're Garbo's salary, You're cellophane. You're sublime, You're turkey dinner, You're the time, the time of a Derby winner I'm a toy balloon that’s fated soon to pop But if, baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! You're the top! You're an arrow collar You're the top! You're a Coolidge dollar, You're the nimble tread Of the feet of Fred Astaire, You're an O'Neill drama, You're Whistler's mama! You're camembert. You're a rose, You're Inferno's Dante, You're the nose On the great Durante. I'm just in a way, As the French would say, "de trop". But if, baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! You're the top! You're a dance in Bali. You're the top! You're a hot tamale. You're an angel, you, Simply too, too, too diveen, You're a Boticcelli, You're Keats, You're Shelly! You're Ovaltine! You're a boom, You're the dam at Boulder, You're the moon, Over Mae West's shoulder, I'm the nominee of the G.O.P. Or GOP! But if, baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! You're the top! You're a Waldorf salad. You're the top! You're a Berlin ballad. You're the boats that glide On the sleepy Zuider Zee, You're an old Dutch master, You're Lady Astor, You're broccoli! You're romance, You're the steppes of Russia, You're the pants, on a Roxy usher, I'm a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop, But if, baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top!

Billy Higgins J. C. Higginbotham Timothy Bottoms ← Mickey Mouse Mahatma Gandhi Lady Astor