I don’t usually lead off with politics in this feature but I have the MAGA assault on higher education on my mind.
In my family, getting an education was everything. My paternal great-grandfather was a school teacher. I don’t know how well schooled 19th Century Greek teachers were, but he passed on a legacy of education to his son who passed it to my father and so on. The same goes for my mother’s side of the family: my late Aunt Esther was a principal for 20+ years. She taught me how to read and instilled in me a love of language. Thanks, Auntie.
I believe that education should focus on making students better citizens and people. They can learn a trade elsewhere. They need to learn how to think. It comes in handy.
The unthinking masses have gotten us into a mess by following a leader who was called a fucking moron by his first Secretary of State. That bit of tea from the Tillerson has stuck with me. All Marco Rubio says to President Pennywise is YES SIR. The country needs more thinkers and fewer sycophants.
That concludes our Saturday sermonette.
In yesterday’s Friday Cocktail Hour, I mentioned my pre-Jazz Fest jitters. I did fine. My high expectations for Cheap Trick were exceeded. I’ll have more to say about my day at Jazz Fest later this week. I have some good Fest adjacent stories to tell. Stay tuned.
This week’s one-word theme song is accompanied by an image of Groucho Marx as Professor Quincy Adams Wagstaff, president of Huxley College. Horse Feathers is a typically zany movie full of Marxian antics, high spirits, and football with leather helmets.
I hadn’t played The Kinks 1975 concept album Schoolboys In Disgrace in years. I had almost forgotten how good it is. I did not, however, forget the lyrics. I found myself singing along, getting most of the lyrics right. Memory is a funny thing.
This week’s theme song was written for that album by Ray Davies. I wholeheartedly concur with this refrain: Everybody needs an education.
Hit it, Ray:
Now that we’ve been schooled by the vicious headmaster, we have two more educational tunes.
From Severe To Serene describes my mood as I write this. I needed to vent at the top of the post, so we can return to our regularly scheduled programming.
Our second act is short and sweet with a piece about one of the best restaurants in the world. It just happens to be in Uptown New Orleans.
Chef Frank Brigtsen: The chef-owner of my favorite New Orleans restaurant is the subject of a profile by Michael Oates Palmer in The Bitter Southerner. It’s nearly as delicious as Frank’s food.
Chef’s eponymous eatery Brigtsen’s is located in an Uptown house. It’s where Dr. A and I like to celebrate special occasions and take out of town guests to eat but only if we know when they’re coming a month in advance. Reservations are needed because it’s deservedly popular.
I’ve only met Chef Frank in his dining room, but he and his wife Marna are warm and friendly befitting a restaurant targeted at locals. They set the tone for their staff, which results in superb service. The food is best described as elevated Creole comfort food with pizzaz. Chef Frank learned from the best, Paul Prudhomme. Now he’s the best.
Palmer spent time with Frank and Marna not long after the Bourbon Street terrorist attack. The timing led to my favorite quote in the profile. It has nothing to do with food but proves that Chef Frank is a hardcore New Orleanian:
“I don’t want anybody to call me resilient anymore,” he says. “I don’t want to have to be. Y’know? I’m watching some news conference. And I’m thinking, ‘Don’t say it. Don’t say it. He said it!’ It’s like ‘thoughts and prayers’ and the shootings.”
Yeah, you right, Chef.
Repeat after me: Fuck resilience.
Chef Frank’s gumbo is among the best I’ve ever eaten, so the last word of our second act goes to Little Feat:
We begin our third act with our favorite stolen feature.
Separated At Birth Casting Edition: In the 1950’s they called it McCarthyism. I’m referring to the sort of mendacious mudslinging that characterizes Trumpism and MAGA maggotry. Is that a word? It should be.
I give you Senator Joe McCarthy and Peter Boyle in the fine 1976 TV movie, Tailgunner Joe.
The real Joe McCarthy looks hungover in that picture. Cue on point Tom Jones song:
Your Weekly Oscar: This week the Gershwin variations with OP, Stan Getz, and Louis Armstrong.
Have I told you lately how much I love Oscar Peterson?
The Best Of Bullwinkle: Watch and learn, Daddy-O.
I wonder if Bullwinkle and Rocky ever went to the beach with the Go-Go’s:
Classic Movie Trailer: Let’s check in on Groucho, Harpo, Chico, and Zeppo at Huxley College.
Saturday GIF Horse: The only college Buster Keaton attended was the fictional one in the 1928 film, College.
Shush. He’s speaking.
Your Weekly Political Cartoon: This toon by Walt Handelsman was published last month but it’s evergreen as far as I’m concerned. I believe in calling a Nazi a Nazi. So does the cartoonist at my local paper:
Let’s close down this virtual honky tonk with some more music.
The Saturday Closer Presents The Ed Sullivan Show: I’m enjoying the clips from the Sullivan show so much that I’m devoting this feature to them until I get bored and move on. This week, a Beach Boys doubleheader:
That’s all for this week. The last word goes to those Schoolboys In Disgrace, The Kinks:
