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Selections
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as chosen by Zippy McDuff, The Invisible Intern™.
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LETTER
OF THE WEEK: DARE TO DREAM
Hello
The following is a more or less verbatim account of a dream I had recently
about Vanilla Ice. I did note your warning against both writing self-indulgent
first-person stories and writing about someone "likely to disappear from
public consciousness within the next year," and clearly Vanilla Ice is
an example of that. But what was peculiar and interesting about my dream
is that it shows how even long-neglected pop stars can linger in our memories,
and how they can commingle with one's broader cultural knowledge of history
and literature in seemingly absurd ways.
Arne
Christensen
arnolfini@earthlink.net
A
Dream About Vanilla Ice
by
Arne Christensen
My
dream last night was about Robert Van Winkle, who is better known as Vanilla
Ice. In this dream, I was travelling with him on a tour he was on. As
seems to happen so often in dreams, I have no idea how I came to be part
of this tour. I remember a very vaguely outlined woman, who seemed to
be his companion/girlfriend/wife. He had no entourage with him: the woman
and I apparently passed for his entourage. We were in a shabby, yet not
entirely degraded, hotel somewhere near a freeway, outside the unidentified
city in which he was to perform. (He recently issued a new album which,
combined with his recent appearance on Fox's Celebrity Boxing, special
qualifies him as attempting to make a comeback).
Although
I clearly remember it being a tour, when we got up to his room its walls
were lined with custom-made shelves. Those shelves were filled mostly
with books on the Nazis and World War II. They were things like diaries
from Rommel's secretary, analyses of Wehrmacht maneuvers in the Ukrainian
swamps, and descriptions of the Nazi-Soviet pact and why Hitler broke
it. I can not explain why Vanilla would have so many books when he was
touring and surely would only stay in the hotel for a day or two. My guess
is that thoughts of Vladimir Nabokov, who spent the last 16 or 17 years
of his life living in a hotel suite in St. Moritz, Switzerland, intruded
into this dream. While I don't know how many books Nabokov had in his
suite, I imagine he had quite a few.
A
Question
I
was taking a gander at your album cover art of not-so-famous designers,
and I’m wondering if you could help me find the album for Lido
by The Continental Orchestra. I fell in love with the picture and MUST
have it.
Any
info would be much appreciated.
Marla
marlavous@adelphia.net
Well,
finding such albums usually amounts to just getting lucky. I found that
one and the Lilo album at an antique mall in New Philadelphia, Ohio (I
also picked up a really cool one on RCA of the Radio City Rockettes celebrating
Christmas). To actually pinpoint that title for purchase would take some
work.
•
Doing regular searches on eBay would be the easiest thing to do, since
vinyl dealers often post their oddball albums.
•
You could buy a copy of Goldmine, which is record collectors' tabloid,
and get e-mail addresses for the hundreds of vinyl sellers that advertise
and then query them. There's also a nifty little magazine called Cool
and Strange Music that might help.
•
You could try going to record shows and asking the dealers there.
–Ed.
A
Suggestion
Hello
I enjoyed your list of bottom five Idiot's Guidebooks. However, I would
have added Idiot's Guide to Crossword Puzzles. What idiot would be able
to complete a crossword puzzle? Another marketing ploy...
C'est
le vie,
Amber
Flagstaff, AZ
(e-mail address withheld)
To
be honest, I didn't go through all 650 "Idiot" titles before making my
selections. There's only so much torture I can take in writing these things.
But had I seen the one on crossword puzzles, I most certainly would've
included it.
–Ed.
And
a Compliment
At
last, a web site that speaks to me! The graphics are great, the contents
is great–I think you have a winner. I don't have a story idea today,
but I want to thank you and to congratulate you on this most excellent
of websites. I will do whatever I can to keep it going, and I will pass
on the word that it's the place to be.
W.B.
(e-mail address withheld)
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