Consortium of Seven: Year 4

 Please wait for the ride to come to a full and complete stop before making your way to the exit.      Our posts are archived at Facebook   https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100065464539652  Year 1 Year 2  https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063745951071 Year 3  https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100076323663930 Year 4  https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100084649723902 Year 1  Year 2 Year 3 Most of Year 4   Blogger Year 3  https://consortiumofsevenyearthree.blogspot.com/ Blogger Year 2  https://consortiumofsevenyeartwo.blogspot.com/2021/09/weve-done-two-years-of-daily-blog-and.html Blogger Year 1   https://consortiumofseven.blogspot.com/2020/10/yes-its-true-were-somewhere-else-now.html The last of Year 4 plus random samplings of all four years -- updated two or three times a week And the posts remain at the original Blooger sites: Year 1 Year 2 Year 3 Year 4

    In  this recent post I looked at some of the people involved in a songbook called The Fireside Book of Favorite American Songs, first published in 1950. I didn't know much about most of the people involved, so I did some research for the essay and I figured out that some people were related, by blood or marriage, to the literary Van Doren family. Carl Van Doren had written the preface for the book, and his former wife's sister, Margaret Bradford Boni, was the editor of the volume. Van Doren's former wife, Irita Van Doren, is the subject of today's post.   When reading up on Irita's sister Margaret while doing earlier research, I had not realized how difficult the sisters' lives were when they were children. The family lived in Florida, where their father owned a sawmill. A disgruntled employee killed Mr. Bradford, leaving Irita, age nine, and Margaret, age seven, to be raised by their widowed mother, who gave music lessons and made and sold fruit pr...

I really don’t like the word “goodbye.” It’s so final. I’ve said goodbye to so many people and places through my seventy years that the word carries with it echoes of sorrow and regret.  Parting is linguistically different in a couple of languages that I know a little bit: The German auf wiedersehen literally mean “until we see each other again,” as does the French au revoir . That’s nicer.  But sometimes parting is final, in blogging as well as in life. After nearly four years of throwing stuff at the wall here, this is my last piece for the Consortium of Seven. And, appropriately, it’s about “goodbye.”  When I sort the 106,000 mp3s in the RealPlayer for the word “goodbye,” I get back 332 entries. Some of them won’t work for us today: I have to ignore all but the title tracks to Cream’s 1969 album Goodbye and Groove Armada’s 2001 album Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) . And I have to also forget about a few stray tracks from Tim Buckley’s 1967 album Goodbye and ...

For four years, every Sunday, I’ve attempted to write something, or share photos that might be entertaining. In the beginning I hoped to grow as a writer of short stories. The demands of work intruded on that hope, and to be honest, maybe I’m not ready for that kind of artistic endeavor. Nonetheless, I enjoyed being a part of The Consortium of Seven, reading what the other members shared, and the small joys of hearing what others thought of what I shared there. As we are wrapping up the project, I feel a pang of sadness coupled with the pragmatic realization that it will be one less thing on my too full plate.  And now, having a little trove of remembrances to delve into from time to time will be a delight for me. I could never maintain a diary, I tried when I was young. This will be much more entertaining. Recalling things is part of my nature, and fashioning those recollections into stories is what I hope to do, in good time, I suppose. So I wish you well, and all the best, and a...