Utah Phillips: Howdy

Monday, February 18, 2008

Howdy

Just a quick note of apology. A couple of friends have commented on my spelling and grammar or lack there of. But after this many twelve hour days in the hospital under the conditions I feel lucky to get my shoes on the right feet in the morning. The whole thing does weird stuff to your brain it makes so many things seem unimportant.

8 comments:

Cake the Small said...: HeyYa Duncan, no worries on the grammar and spelling. We're just glad you're keeping us informed. Live from Batavia Coast, Mrs. Jarvie.; February 18, 2008 at 1:18 PM
Anonymous said...: Hi Duncan,
Who cares about your grammar and spelling? On the contrary, I feel they give that special down-home touch to your posts, which are eagerly awaited little jewels you so generously offer us day after day. Keep 'em coming, and don't change anything! :)
Christine in NC; February 18, 2008 at 3:36 PM
Anonymous said...: Hello Duncan; Don't worry about it,you are good to go with the crowd here in Pennsylvania. So glad for all the updates. Hope you will all soon be headed east. Keith Bednar; February 18, 2008 at 5:13 PM
Anonymous said...: Well, there's your problem, Duncan.

One of those shoes should go on the left foot!

Portland; February 18, 2008 at 7:28 PM
Unknown said...: Thanks for the updates, Duncan, and no worries. I taught literature and composition for 20 years. F#"k grammar. Sue; February 19, 2008 at 12:22 AM
Anonymous said...: Duncan,

ewe maid gremmer mestaces und erars wit ?spilleng eye dednet knotise.

lurve al de steries. Pleze cepe dem kominc.

much love to you, your dad and everyone.

Mike Taub; February 19, 2008 at 5:19 AM
Unknown said...: Hi Duncan,

I am a book editor and translator and I wholeheartedly echo Susan's comment! and have this to add about grammar:

"It's a damn poor mind that can think of only one way to spell a word." - Andrew Jackson.

and here are a few more enlightening thoughts on the subject:

"This is the sort of bloody nonsense up with which I will not put." - attributed to Winston Churchill, rejecting the rule against ending a sentence with a preposition, c.1948.

"Grammar stops at love, and at art."
- Valentine Sterling

"If you give me the tools, the syntax, and the grammar, it still doesn't tell me how to write Ulysses." - David Baker

"Devotees of grammatical studies have not been distinguished for any very remarkable felicities of expression." - Bronson Alcott

"My spelling is Wobbly. It's good spelling, but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places."
- A.A. Milne

"Correct English is the slang of prigs who write history and essays." - George Eliot

"Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar." -E.B. White

"I don't give a damn for a man that can only spell a word one way."
- Mark Twain

"His eyes so dim, so wasted each limb, that heedless of grammar, they all cried, 'That's him!'" - Richard Harris Barham

and my favorite, "Why care for grammar as long as we are good?
- Artemus War

So glad to hear your dad is feeling better. I saw him perform only one time, around 1976 in Amherst, Mass. Although I have forgotten who the friend was who took me, I never forgot that performance, and I have passed his music and stories on to my kids. I discovered this blog while looking to see if he would be anywhere nearby so I could take them.

Continued healing and strength to you all. And thank you.

Judith Hoffman, Ann Arbor; February 19, 2008 at 7:29 AM
Diane Smith said...: Duncan:

As a writer, let me add my whole-hearted agreement to all of the above. We all so appreciate knowing that you and your family are doing well.

I loved Judith's quotes. Having lived in the wake of the Wobblies, my favorite, and the one which seemed particularly appropriate for Utah:

"My spelling is Wobbly. It's good spelling, but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places." - A.A. Milne

Get well soon Utah! We need you out there raising hell against the inequities of the world.

Diane Smith, Montana; February 19, 2008 at 8:20 AM

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The Two Bums

This is a poem from George Milburn's book, The Hobo's Hornbook. You can also find it in a lot of old I. W. W. pamphlets and literature. It sums up a great deal of what I feel. It talks about the bum on the rod and the burn on the plush, which is just a simple way of saying that the kind of system we live in now demands that there be a poor people, demands that there be people out of work so that there will always be people willing to work for any wage.
Sure, a lot of railroad burns are parasites, but, like the poem says, they're just fleas who get an occasional bite, and you look at what those parasites at the top are chewing off. I know that there's a lot of talk these days about the welfare Cadillac; middle class people talking about those welfare gobblers down on the bottom who are afraid to do an honest day's work, and they're all driving big Cadillacs. And you hear over and over again, "Nobody ought to get something for nothing. " I've got to agree. You've got to work to eat.
I look at a factory. I see that everybody associated with that factory puts something in and they take something out. The workers put in their sweat and their skill, and they take out wages. The salesmen put in their skill and ability, and they take out commissions. The managers and foremen and people in the offices put in theirs, and take out salaries. But there's one group of people who take out more than they put in, and that more is called profit. I can't think of any other way to define it. That's a bunch of people who are getting something they didn't work for, and it's a whole lot.
If we're really concerned about people getting just what they earn, if we're really concerned about people not getting something that they didn't put in time and sweat for, let's start with the major offenders, and get rid of them. Then we'll gradually work our way down to the petty chiselers. It just makes sense.

The bum on the rod is hunted down
As the enemy of mankind;
The other is driven around to his club
And feted, wined and dined.

And they who curse the bum on the rods
As the essence of all that is bad
Will greet the other with a winning smile
And extend him the hand so glad.

The bum on the rods is a social flea
Who gets an occasional bite;
The bum on the plush is a social leech,
Blood-sucking day and night.

The bum on the rods is a load so light
That his weight we scarcely feel,
But it takes the labor of dozens of men
To furnish the other a meal.

As long as you sanction the bum on the plush,
The other will always be there,
But rid yourself of the bum on the plush
And the other will disappear.

Then make an intelligent, organized kick,
Get rid of the weights that crush;
Don't worry about the bum on the rods,
Get rid of the bum on the plush!

Internet Archive

I have started to develop an internet archive on my web page. It will be a collection of pictures, concert flyers and posters, concert audio and video, in short everything that I have collected during the last few years of traveling with dad. My hope is that it may one day become a central place for the world wide community to have access to an ever growing archive of Utah Phillips. I would like to encourage folks to add to the archive as well. You can either send things via e-mail ( friendsofutah@yahoo.com) or to my home address. I look forward to hearing from you.
Thank You
Duncan Phillips
1392 e. 5935 s.
SLC, UT. 84121