What's everyone up to right now?

[Astreja]

Preparing to load up the car and head out to our last Christmas gig of the season -- playing at a community holiday dinner at a downtown homeless shelter. Am also taking them a bag of useful things such as socks, underwear and winter keep-warm stuff.

It's nice going into seniors' residences to entertain them, but this is really special. I always end up teary-eyed somewhere during the concert, usually during the Huron Carol or Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

[Edwardo Piet]

I am officially detached from my pain pump!!!!

On the one hand it's incredibly freeing and I can't wait until my wound vac comes off in three days.

On the other hand I have no idea how much pain I'll have tonight so I have my super pills primed and ready to go just in case

So relieved for you

[brewer]

Just finished blowing the drive way (only 2.5"). Getting cleaned up to go our for lunch.

[Whateverist]

Got a good start this morning. Hauled up everything to keep the fireplace lit, had breakfast, cut a bouquet of flowers, bought more booze and an itty bitty live xmas tree marked down to $5.

Got all my bowls and pans and ingredients laid out for prepping.

---

It's nice going into seniors' residences to entertain them, but this is really special.  I always end up teary-eyed somewhere during the concert, usually during the Huron Carol or Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

How far are you willing to travel.  We could use some live music here in Berkeley, California.

[Jackalope]

Freezing rain, and now a light snow.

Jesus must love fender benders.

[Silver]

Finished my easy-peasy four hour shift at work, and now I'm drinking some wine.

[Clueless Morgan]

It's snowing. Not happy about that. I had enough snow last year, I'm not ready for it again.

In other news, I painted some tigers that turned out pretty good if you don't look at them too closely and turned out alright if you do

Going to a party in about an hour.

Gotta get up and walk around a bit now, been sitting for a long time.

[c172]

Running around my hood for gifts for xmas tomorrow.

That much of the holiday is over. :like:

[Astreja]

How far are you willing to travel.  We could use some live music here in Berkeley, California.

Well, *I* could probably drop by, but it might be hard to convince the other 39 musicians and the band director to come along.  

Gig was wonderful.  As soon as I got home, things went from the sublime to the absurd and then to the utterly ridiculous.

First I went on my traditional Cappuccino Run, and thanks to the auspices of the Parking Gods I got a prime spot near the mall doors.  I sat at centre court for a while, sipping the aforementioned cappuccino and observing the last-minute shopping crowd. 

And then I went home to cook.  I prepared brioche dough and a nuts-and-celery filling that barely made it into the designated loaf pan.  I made tiramisu, cooling the custard to near-freezing by setting the pot out on the front porch in -20C weather.  I also wanted to make an orange cake, but I couldn't because we only had one egg left.  Somehow my daughter and I managed to use up 23 eggs in a day and a half.  That's serious cooking.

Since most of the recipes called for egg yolks, we had an alarming number of egg whites left over.  3 baking pans and 3 cups of sugar later, we have a double batch of chocolate pavlova lurking in the oven.

When we finally did get to supper, it consisted of gourmet cheese, salami and crackers, and for me an utterly fiendish beverage -- a Havana smoothie, made with rum, lemon juice, and some pineapple I had chucked into the freezer for a while.  (I suppose I could have just put it on the porch with the tiramisu custard...)

[Rev. Rye]

Here's something that's been happening over the last couple days: my occasional interest in Jacques Brel flared up and I decided I needed to figure out "Amsterdam." The chords were easy enough to find.






However, there was one crucial point: I don't speak French, and I would prefer to find a translation. Preferably something I can sing. Of course, there was the famous Shuman-Blau translation that Scott Walker sang, but I know that they tended to fuck up the original French. I knew, however, there was another translator whose versions were not only closer to the original, but actually met with the approval of Brel's widow herself. His name: Arnie Johnston.





However, due to legal issues (due largely to the Blau estate wanting to lord their rights over translation and the successors to Brel's widow not wanting new versions), those new translations are not widely available. I spent hours looking for them on the Internet. I failed to find a lyrics sheet, but I did manage to find this video of the new translation from a revue.






Unfortunately, said video was shot with an in-camera mic that failed to properly mark the words. I managed to transcribe a good part of it, but knowing that some of it was poorly done, I did something I don't actually do very often: I found the guy's email and asked him what the words were myself. He went above and beyond the call of duty and sent me the lyrics to "Amsterdam", as well as his translations for all the songs in Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris.

Here's the full lyrics:


In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sigh
For the dreams that won’t die
On the seas off Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who drowse
Like the flags that won’t rouse
All along the dark quay
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who die
Full of drama and beer
When the small hours are here
In the port of Amsterdam
There are new sailors born
In the warm muggy breeze
In the languorous seas

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who eat
On white cloth from a dish
Full of grease-dripping fish
And they show you the teeth
That they crunch fortune with
That devour the moon
That can haul up the sheets
In the batter and grease
They can still find the fish
That their coarse hands pulled in
That they grab once again
Then they rise with a shout
In a tempest of noise
And they do up their flies
And they belch their way out

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who grind
On the bellies of whores
In whose arms they’re entwined
And they turn and they dance
Like fireworks they whirl
To the agonized skirl
Of a squeezebox in pain
And they stretch and they crane
To listen and laugh
Until all of a sudden
The music cuts off
Then with gestures so grave
And their eyes full of pride
They drag their companions
Out into the light

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who drink
And they drink and they drink
And they drink yet again
And they drink to the health
Of the Amsterdam whores
Or Hamburg or somewhere
While the bartender pours
A toast to the ladies
Whose virtue’s long-gone
Who barter their bodies
From dusk until dawn
Then with noses on high
And their heads in the stars
They piss while I cry
For a two-timing tart

In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam


English lyrics © copyright Arnold Johnston

Then he offered to send me his CD of some of his translations (one that is, evidently, not available anywhere else at this point). On another note, a few months ago, I translated "Comme d'Habitude." I mentioned this, and he sent his own version. It's remarkable how different two translators can do with the same version.

His first verse:
I wake
And kiss your eyes
But you won’t rise
The same as always

Make sure
The cover’s drawn
To keep you warm
The same as always

And then
Caress your hair
And say a prayer
The same as always

But you
You won’t be true
The same as always

Mine: 

 I wake
   And brush your skin
   You stay asleep
   The same as always

   And then,
   I pull the sheets
   You won’t get cold
   The same as always

   My hand
   It strokes your hair
   Reflexively
   The same as always

   And then
   You turn your back
   The same as always

I may be emphasising the sense of dreariness throughout the early part of the day before he comes home and they make love a bit too much.