This could be really tedious. You’ve been warned.
But you’re safe, at least until you move to more detailed pages. Here, there’s just a pdf of my “brief” (GAHHH!) vita—and you surely have sense enough to not download that.
I have been bedazzled by the playground (says Lou Harrison) left to us by Charles Ives for nigh on fifty years, so you would think that this page would be overflowing . . . but it’s not . . . yet . . .
Just another disappointment for you, I’m sure . . and I do apologize . . .
And for Mr. Cage, the news isn’t good, either: there’s nothing here.
But I have put a few tidbits up on academic.edu, if you’re so inclined. And there will, eventually (but when??), be some more substantive contributions on this very page that is so useless currently. Honest, there will . . .
This set of web pages is in part a companion and guide to two digital archives: the World War I Sheet Music from the James Francis Driscoll Collection of American Sheet Music and the James Edward Myers World War I Sheet Music Collection. It is titled, however, Popular Music of World War I: A Living Archive, because its contents extend well beyond a simple introduction to the collections. Included are an introduction, a summary of the conventions that govern metadata for the two archives, a history of the entire project from my undergraduate years to 2018, a spreadsheet that presents the metadata in an alternative form, and a “User’s Guide” for persons wishing to use the whole for their own research. Ancillary pages list, briefly describe, and sometimes supplement publications and lectures that have derived from the project.
These pages are designed to be used, not read. And it is my hope that in exploring their use, both pleasures and rewards will be found. Happy explorations!
You’ll recall, of course, that The Scarecrow winds up not with a real heart, but with a testimonial—which does, however, tick regularly. (Think valve replacement, those of you familiar with that procedure.)
Well, it’s much the same here: as a token of my heartlessness, from time to time I’ve received testimonials. I’ll list these here, eventually—it’s a pretty low priority, to be honest—but for now, I’ll just refer back to the Wizard in closing: “Remember, my sentimental friend, that a heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”
That’s pretty deep. (And ethically dubious, in my view . . .)
Eventually there will be some real information—maybe even some photographs and documents—on this page. For now, though, if you’re after Brooks or Ingle family history, all I can do is to point you to the very incomplete family tree that I’ve started on ancestry.com (a website that costs money to access, of course; truly sorry about that).
Come back for another visit in a little while, and maybe there will be some absolutely free, FREE, FREEEEEEE! information here . . .
The plan (ah, yes, the plan . . .) is there will be at least five shelves in this bay, and on each of those shelves will perch various galleries.
But since chaos reigns in my collection of photographs, for the moment I have only samples to offer. So what’s here, for now, is just a kind of digestif . . . an amuse-bouche . . . or amuse-l’oeil, I suppose . . .
The main course will arrive after some serious chopping and dicing has happened.
(Don’t you just love mixing metaphors? To produce half-baked ideas?)
I was born in New York City on December 17, 1943.
As of this writing, I have not yet died.
That, alas, comprises all the stories I have time for right now . . . but please check back in a few weeks—months?—years??—when there will be a few more.
If, that is, the second sentence above still holds true at that time . . .
This is a wee bit devious, because I’m allegedly writing a book with this very title, to be published by the Orpheus Institute on its new online platform.
Isn’t that exciting? Doesn’t the thrill of anticipation make up for the fact that . . . There. Is. Nothing. Here.?
No? Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. Please don’t go away mad—there will be something soon (though “soon” is a relative term, I grant you . . .).