User:Denisbradford
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Contents |
[edit] Biographical stuff
[edit] Places lived in
- Tokyo, Japan
- Washington, D.C and various suburbs
- Asuncion, Paraguay
- Lima, Peru
- Tegucigalpa, Honduras
- Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic
- Texas City, TX
- Guatemala City, Guatemala
- Dallas, TX
- Austin, TX
- Eugene, OR
- Boston, MA and various suburbs
[edit] Places visited (not just passing through)
- France: Paris, Tourette sur Loup
- Brazil: Rio, Salvador, Ouro Preto, Belem, Brasilia
- Aruba
- Quebec, CA
- All over New England
- Houma, LA
- Oak Park IL
- Phoenix Ariz
- Manhattan
[edit] Interesting Facts
Actually my life has been pretty dull compared to that of my grandfather William Shubrick Bradford, so I'd rather tell about him. He shipped out to the Philippines in the Spanish-American war. Everything you need to know about this war was said by Mark Twain. Our "pacification" of the Philippines was one of the nastiest and most shameful episodes in U.S. history, and that's saying a lot. Think of My Lai on a bigger scale. Whatever my grandfather saw, it was enough to make him go AWOL and turn him into a flaming socialist.
The story I heard was that he might have been shot as a wartime deserter, but that he had some family connections who pulled strings and saved him. (I should explain: in those distant days of Constitutional checks and balances, Congress held the power to declare war, not the President.) I think he was demoted and sent to the most backwater post they could find for him: Fort Huachuca, Arizona. Ironically, that post is now a beehive of army intelligence work, which I presume today supports the current cruel and stupid war. Anyway, my Dad was born there, and grandfather died four years later, in his mid-forties. Hmm, that must be why I never met my grandfather.
The other interesting thing about my grandfather was that he was a friend of Dr. Saxton Pope, the personal physician and by all accounts a real friend of the Yahi Indian known as Ishi, who spent the last years of his tragic life, from 1911 to 1916, in the San Francisco Museum as an object of study and exhibit.
So my uncle Saxton Marx Bradford was named after Dr. Pope. Uncle Sax dropped the Marx as soon as he could, probably a good move considering that he pursued a career in the U.S. Government. My other uncle's name was Eugene Debs Bradford. Can you see a pattern here? Yes, grandfather was also an ardent admirer of that famous Socialist leader, and might known him too. By the time of their third child, my grandmother had something to say about its name, so my father did not have an albatross of a name.
For what it's worth, I carry on some kind of progressive tradition, but I'm afraid Grandfather would not consider me a socialist at all. I don't see my options as starkly as he perhaps did. But maybe in those days, walking in his shoes, I would have been a socialist. I think most people today (in the West anyway) are less sentimental and slower to anger than their forebears. I'm not sure how much that helps us: I hope we're still capable of compassion and courage, otherwise we're really in trouble. Anyway, as my Dad says (after Voltaire): It is dangerous to be right, but it is more dangerous to be left.
[edit] Careers
- Cabinetmaker
- Software technical writer
- ???
[edit] Things I care about
- I play the piano a bit, although I've lapsed even from that in recent years. For a few years I worked up pieces on my Kurzweill digital piano, recorded them on minidisc, then cut CDs from that (Yes, I wish I had a real piano, but it would have wrecked my marriage). In the end my "discography" included such things as a few Brahms intermezzi, Bach WTK preludes & fugues, Chopin mazurkas, Schubert dances and an impromptu, a little Debussy, some Scott Joplin, and even a Smetana polka.
I'm a lousy sightreader, so my preferred method of study was to first commit the piece to memory, getting past all the fingering and mechanical obstacles. Then the hard part began: working up an interpretation. It's hard to say what I got out of this "study". I certainly don't admire my performances, and have way too much stage fright to play them for anyone. Yet it is enormously gratifying to get to know a beautiful piece of music in this intimate way, however haltingly. I learned one important truth: learning about a great piece of music (even a small one like a Bach prelude and fugue) is not like peeling an onion - instead, you find that there is no end to the ways you can interpret it.
- For most of my adult life I supported public television and radio in the United States, because it provided a refuge from the cultural and political conformity that prevails here. Recently I stopped giving, because it seems to me public television and radio have abandoned their original goals and no longer provide that refuge. I guess they will disappear, along with most "free" commercial media, whose viewers and listeners have clickers and don't care to watch the ads, free or not. I wonder what will take their place. Maybe a million pay-for-view channels, with more diversity than ever. Or, maybe just a few monolithic pay-for view channels, all with the same programming.
- I hate political work: it's against my nature. I'd rather mind my own business and that you stay out of mine. Unfortunately, I don't think civic-minded people in the United States have that luxury any more. I don't know about you, but I'm putting on my walking shoes and hitting the pavement, going to town meetings, and saying what I think. The alternative is to let things be run by people who scare the hell out of me.
- Have always been a foodie, although my tastes change a lot over time. I've gotten away from the fancy stuff (which I can't afford anyway), now I appreciate good ethnic food and simple things cooked well. A good stew can be to die for. And because I grew up in Latin America, my comfort foods include things like black beans and rice, fresh corn tortillas (which sadly you can't get in the Boston area), tamales (the best are made by my Guatemalan friend Irene), and pozole. I like to cook, but can only do a few things well. The rest is endless experimentation, with my wife and daughter as patient and forgiving subjects.
- Trying to decide what my next career should be. In nearby Lowell, they keep trying to open up chi-chi restaurants and cafes, which fail because they're not the real thing. It's no good selling gelato that's freezer-burnt or biscotti that's chewy. So I'd like to open up an honest, real cafe: For starters, I'd hire a real barista from the North End. Hmm maybe it could be a latino cafe - if I could get Irene to make a few tamales. And I'm a hell of good dishwasher.
[edit] Desert island music (if stranded today)
This is just a snapshot of what's been in my head lately. If asked to pack a bag next week, I might pick other music.
- Schubert (that miracle of nature): all the chamber & piano music. And the lieder of course.
- Bach Partitas (keyboard)
- Bach Cantata #12
- Last Brahms symphony I heard
- Luis Bonfa's Perdido de amor
- Joni Mitchell's Blue album
- Strauss Sinfonia Domestica
- Beethoven Moonlight sonata (Richard Goode)
- Jo Stafford's I'll be seeing you
- Jussi Bjorling: all 12 cds.
- Ivan Moravec - everything he does
- Dorival Caymmi
- Spike Jones
- Trio los Paraguayos (from the 50's)
- Victoria Vidi Speciosam
- Frank Zappa Absolutely Free
- Brahms Alto Rhapsody, Marienlieder... oh, why not all his choral music!
- Brahms late piano music (Gieseking)
- Glazunov piano music
