Flannery O’Connor’s chilling tale of a vacation bound family that encounters three prison escapees on a twisting dirt road in South Georgia is the centerpiece of our most recent podcast from “The Voice of the Arts.”
“Never, never had anyone spoken to me in that tone before. I looked at him incredulously and saw his face convulsed with rage. It was only then that I fully realized how God had codded me, listening to my prayers for the safe return of this monster.” – Character Larry, speaking of his father, in Frank O’Connor’s “My Oedipus Complex.”
It is not rare for us fallible humans to make a mistake every now and again, but does doing something stupid make you an idiot? Or are you merely someone who suffers from idiocy? Humorist Ian Frazier struggles with this distinction in his raucous New Yorker essay “What I Am,” one of two Frazier pieces we feature on this week’s episode. Jeff Foxworthy makes an appearance with some of his hilariously acerbic insights into being a Southerner, and show favorite Jack Handey generously presents some ideas for paintings to struggling artists in need of inspiration.
When, as children, fate can send us into one of two third grade classrooms, we get our first taste of life’s randomness. Richard Yates’ short story “Fun With a Stranger” captures in exquisite detail how one teacher can make the classroom feel like a dungeon.
The mythic American West has been depicted in stories and legends for more than 150 years, and the larger-than-life personalities and epic range wars have been commemorated in hundreds of films, books and songs. One country that has had a longstanding fascination with the Old West is Italy. In fact, Clint Eastwood mostly got his start as a famous cowboy actor in Sergio Leone’s classic Spaghetti Westerns. We feature some of the eminently recognizable scores from a couple of those films, composed by Ennio Morricone. Then, we examine Puccini’s Opera “La Fanciulla del West” (“The Girl of the West”), another Italian homage to this storied moment in time. And resident Western expert Jim Dunham discusses the history of William H. Bonnie, otherwise known as Billy the Kid.
A passionate and well-crafted speech is often the most impactful way to rouse supporters and sway opponents, and words can sometimes be the most piercing weapon we have. This week, we focus on rhetoric: the power of effective or persuasive speech or writing, as exhibited by some real masters of the craft — Churchill, Shakespeare, Sorkin, and of course, Jack Handey. Through brilliantly chosen words and striking delivery, these writers have an exceptional ability to inspire, enrage, and enliven their audiences. First up, Kenneth Branagh acts as the conduit for Shakespeare’s peerless words in the St. Crispin’s Day speech from Henry V. Winston Churchill delivers his own rousing speech discussing the drumbeat of war building in Germany in 1934. Jack Nicholson commands his way through one of the most memorable film speeches of all time in the climax of “A Few Good Men.” And Jack Handey presents a comical spin on great oration, with his discovery of Attila the Hun’s least known speech.
In order to understand the spiritual mysteries of the world, it sometimes help to explore the irreverent, as can be evidenced by the title of our first piece on this week’s episode: “A Conversation with God and the Man in a Football Helmet and a Speedo who’s Always Shouting Things Next to the A&P.” Humorist Simon Rich seeks to understand what might motivate some of God’s whims and priorities in this and several other of his pieces, first questioning God’s choice of messenger to Earth, and then the decision between watching Orel Hershiser pitch a game or dealing with some pesky natural disasters.
Leonard Cohen also mined the intersection between the sacred and the secular in many of his songs, such as in the sweeping and powerful “Hallelujah,” which makes reference to the story of King David and Bathsheba, and “Closing Time,” a song about a sometimes rowdy bar which Cohen now describes as “Dead as heaven on a Saturday night.” Alongside these Cohen tunes, we bring you two of the best classic spirituals ever performed, by The Trumpeteers and Ralph Stanley, with a little Chuck Berry on top. We hope you enjoy!
“Seinfeld” was one of the best TV comedies of the ’90s for many reasons. In addition to whip-smart writing by Larry David, an indelible cast of ne’er-do-well lead characters, and outlandish plotlines which were essentially “about nothing,” it was the revolving cast of oddballs and weirdos who circled the world of Jerry and his friends that gave the show its signature flavor. These unique roles were often performed by notable character actors, some of whom had been recognizable faces for many years in the Film and Theater world, and some who caught their big break on this hugely popular sitcom. This week, we sit down with the actors behind two of the show’s most memorable characters: the overly anxious Mohel from “The Bris” episode, played by the late Charles Levin, and Lt. Joe Bookman, the hard-nosed library cop from “The Library” episode, played by veteran film actor Philip Baker Hall of “Boogie Nights” and “Magnolia” fame. In these two wonderful and insightful interviews, we discuss Jerry’s inability to keep a straight face while filming, the network’s lack of confidence in the show at the beginning (they thought it would be a dud), and the struggles of trying to make a living as a supporting actor.
“First prize is a Cadillac El Dorado. Anybody want to see second prize? Second prize is a set of steak knives. Third Prize is you’re fired!” These are the merciless admonishments of Blake, Alec Baldwin’s unforgettable character in the film “Glengarry Glen Ross,” as he delivers the bitter news to a lacking Real Estate sales team–all but two of them will be given the can. Unfortunately, job uncertainty is a reality for many Americans during the Coronavirus pandemic. It is certainly no laughing matter, but to bring a little bit of levity to a tough issue, we have focused this week’s episode on some pieces that examine the lighter side of work, or lack thereof. Humorists Jack Handey and Kurt Lucks give us some hilarious examples of “Letters of Recommendation” and “Job Rejections” geared toward less than desirable applicants. Phil Hartman appears as a character with an unusual job description, the “Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer” from Saturday Night Live. And just like some folks can’t wait to take a holiday from their normal job, we will be taking a Billie Holiday throughout the episode, letting Lady Day’s wistful tunes whisk us away from the worries of the day.
“Somebody told me this Bessie, she was the damnedest singer, and I asked her to sing, and that’s how it started. Just as soon as she started out I knew her voice was something that would really have the public going.” That’s legendary New Orleans born jazz saxophonist and clarinetist Sidney Bechet recounting memories from his collaborations with Bessie Smith, just one of the sections from Bechet’s autobiography which we feature on this week’s episode. Bechet spent much of his time in Paris, and had a knack for finding trouble. In his own words, we are given a glimpse into his many journeys, a stint he served in prison, and his work with Bessie and others. Of course, we will feature much of his wonderful, energetic music along the way. Before we dive into Bechet, Joe discusses some of the new realities of home based education and introduces a hilarious and prescient New Yorker piece from a decade ago called “Home Colleging,” read here by Barbara Rosenblit.