they had been rebels

------------------- [excerpt] -------------- "They" had been rebels:  they wanted to change the world, be leaders in the fight for justice and art, help to create a society in which individuals could express themselves....

     "They" had been rebels, full of proud illusions....Now, with illusions shattered, they were cynics.  "We," on the contrary, were greatly humble and did not ask of Nature that she gild our happy moments or wildly re-echo our passions.  

We did not feel that our arguments on aesthetics should take place in aesthetic surroundings:  we were content to sit in the kitchen, two or three young men with our feet on the bare table, discussing the problem of abstract beauty while we rolled Bull Durham into cigarettes and let the flakes sift down into our laps.  We had lost our ideals at a very early age, and painlessly. --------------------- [end, excerpt]

____________________________

The wind is in from Africa
Last night I couldn't sleep

Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here Carey
But it's really not my home

My fingernails are filthy, 
I got beach tar on my feet
And I miss my clean white linen
And my fancy French cologne


Oh Carey get out your cane
And I'll put on some silver
Oh you're a mean old daddy
But I like you... ... ...
          ... ...fine

Come on down to the Mermaid Café and I will
Buy you a bottle of wine
And we'll laugh and toast to nothing,
And smash our empty glasses down

Let's have a round for these freaks and these soldiers
A round for these friends of mine
Let's have another round for the bright red devil who
Keeps me in this tourist town


Come on Carey get out your cane
I'll put on some silver
Oh you're a mean old daddy
But I like you
          I like you, I like you, I like you --


Maybe I'll go to Amsterdam
Maybe I'll go to Rome
And rent me a grand piano
And put some flowers 'round my room

But let's not talk about fare-thee-wells now
The night is a starry dome

And they're playin' that scratchy rock and roll
Beneath the Matala Moon


Come on Carey get out your cane
I'll put on some silver
Oh you're a mean old daddy, but
I like you



The wind is in from Africa

Last night I couldn't sleep

Oh you know it sure is hard to leave here

But it's really not my home


Maybe it's been too long a time
Since I was scramblin' down in the street

Now they got me used to that clean white linen
And that fancy French cologne

Oh Carey get out your cane
I'll put on my finest silver
We'll go to the Mermaid Café,
Have fun tonight

I said, Oh, you're a mean old daddy, but
You're out of sight

___________________________

Type in
Carey, Joni Mitchell
and Hit "Play"


(...and now for something completely shallow:  the picture that comes up when Google sends you to You Tube for that song is the picture on the cover of Joni Mitchell's "Blue" album, and it's an unflattering picture, in my opinion.  [I object!]  Many photographs exist which reflect her natural, un-showy beauty.  

I would have used one of those.  

However, she's a serious artist, and probably didn't want to "sell" her work in terms of her looks.)

(Here's me as Joni Mitchell's styling adviser:

"Use this picture." ...

-----------------------------------------
----------------------------------

Here's me as Sam Nunberg's styling adviser:

"Call and interview with Jake Tapper tomorrow.  Sober."

Here's me as President Trump's styling adviser:

"Have your photograph taken with just Mrs. Trump in it..."

------------ official photo, Pres. Trump:

[only kidding, respectfully])

_________________

First excerpt:  Exile's Return, by Malcolm Cowley.  1934.  Penguin.

Song:  "Carey," by Joni Mitchell.  Reprise.

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