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Field Station Research Projects
Ohio River Bioassessment and Monitoring
The Biology Field Station has established a long-term ecological monitoring program on the Ohio River. For over 35 years, this research has examined the water quality, habitat and fish populations around two coal-burning power plants currently operated by DUKE Energy. The primary objectives of these studies are to assess the aquatic ecosystem around the plants by examining the current composition of the fish community, the spatial variation between the fish populations upstream and downstream of the plant, and the hydrological, chemical, and physical characteristics of the Ohio River near the plant.
Drinking Water Protection
The Water Quality Lab at the Field Station houses, a gas chromatograph (donated by ORSANCO—the Ohio River Valley Water Sanitation Commission). The GC will be used for monitoring the Ohio River, or to run samples from any other source. The system looks for VOCs, or volatile organic chemicals, such as the 4 methylcyclohexane methanol, involved in the spill from WV in January 2014. More about ORSANCO's work with GCs on the Ohio River can be found at .
Previously, the Biology Field Station has collaborated with Dr. Joel Allen of the United States Environmental Protection Agency on the deployment of a stand-alone, streamside water quality monitoring station (WQMS) incorporating both physical/chemical and biological water quality monitoring technologies with data telemetry, data analysis, and water sampling capabilities on the Ohio River. The very first pilot station is located at the Biology Field Station. This station provides needed information regarding design and other technical issues for streamside WQMSs to be incorporated into later work resulting in a water quality early warning system (EWS) network of WQMSs strategically placed throughout the Ohio River watershed for the protection of source water resources.
Freshwater Mussel Conservation
Freshwater mollusks are arguably North America's most threatened and endangered group of animals. The Station partnered with the Freshwater Mussel and Conservation Research Center operated by The Ohio State University and Columbus Zoo, the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources, and the Newport Aquarium to understand the basic biology of imperiled mussels and assist in the recovery efforts of threatened/endangered mussel species. Specifically, the Aquarium staff has built a new 720-gallon tank at the Station that will serve as a holding facility of various fish species that are hosts to the life cycle of these mussels.
Most recently, the Field Station installed a system of tanks, utilizing Ohio River water, to provide for the holding of adult and juvenile mussels (both non-federally listed and federally listed). Ultimately, the goal will be to propagate and culture of federally endangered species (i.e., sheepnose, rough pigtoe, purple cat's paw, spectaclecase, orangefoot pimpleback, pink mucket, clubshell, and other species), which will be used in the recovery of these species in the Ohio River. This project will further the missions the Field Station as well as Fish and Wildlife agencies at the state and federal level, enabling aspects of recovery activities for several species of rare and federally listed mussels.
Aquaculture Facility
�鶹������Ʒ More students and faculty working with the USEPA and its contract staff have recently established a new aquatic culture and testing facility at the Ohio River Biology Field Station. The EPA and its contract staff have over 60 years of combined experience in the operation and toxicity testing of aquatic vertebrate, invertebrate, and plant cultures. Development of the facility will include designing and installing a system to treat and deliver the well water to the various culture tanks. The water delivery system will use a 150-gallon tank to hold the culture water for aeration and temperature adjustment. Water will be delivered using a submersible pump and PVC water lines. Fish culture tanks will be flow-through, with all old water delivered to the drain, which feeds the artificial wetland. Pimephales promelas (the Fathead minnow-FHM) will be cultured in this system. Adult FHM will be used to supply eggs, which will then be hatched and reared out for use in testing or to supply additional spawners for use in the aquatic system. Additionally, as the system develops, the freshwater invertebrates Daphnia magna, Ceriodaphnia dubia, Hyalella azteca, Chironomus tentans and Lumbriculus variegates may be cultured as well.
Stormwater and Wastewater Management
Sanitation District No. 1 (SD1) is responsible for the collection and treatment of Northern Kentucky's wastewater, as well as regional stormwater management. We have partnered with SD1 and established the Environmental Academy. Through this Academy, �鶹������Ʒ More faculty and students advise and assist SD1 biologists with their Illicit Discharge Detection Program and Watershed Management Program. Students work alongside SD1 staff in the field to inventory outfalls, assess habitats and conduct water quality assessments. Recently, scientists from the Boone County and Kenton County Conservation Districts have participated in the Environmental Academy.
DNA Barcoding
Since 2011, researchers at the Station have been collecting fish tissues for DNA sequencing analyses, particularly of regions of DNA called barcode genes (i.e. CO1 and 16sRNA genes). Barcode genes are ways to identify species from a genetic perspective. Beyond confirming identifications, the sequence data can be used to answer a variety of questions related to hybridization, migration patterns, and population structure, among others. Further, the barcode data is entered into the Fish Barcode of Life Initiative (FISH-BOL). This is an international global effort to coordinate an assembly of a standardized reference sequence library for all fish species, one that is derived from voucher specimens with authoritative taxonomic identifications.
The Center for Ohio River Research and Education has become a regional center for research, consulting, government, private industry, environmental education and community service. Students and faculty have worked with a diverse group of professionals with backgrounds in science, engineering, education, and other similar disciplines. Over the past decade, we have worked with the following agencies, in addition to numerous other schools and universities:
- Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources ()
- The Newport Aquarium ()
- The Ohio River Valley Water Sanitation Commission ()
- Sanitation District #1 ()
- The United States EPA ()
- United States Fish and Wildlife Services ()


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The Soft Air Reflective Tall socks provide the perfect hit of color and reflectivity in order to keep you visible to motorists at any time of the day or night. We take our Road Tall socks' super-soft and compressive construction and add reflective yarns to the top edge. This part is made up of millions of glass beads that receive and reflect light back to the source, so this reflective band gives you an active, moving element to make yourself more visible to drivers.
- Compression cuff adds security and comfort over the course of the entire ride.
- Graded cuff height.
- PowerBand mid-foot arch supports the foot and secures the shape and fit where the foot needs it most.
- Reflective band on the cuff enhances visibility to motorists in low-light conditions.
- Targeted textured zone under forefoot reduces slip.
- VaporRize Soft Air yarns are extremely lightweight and soft against the skin, placing an emphasis on moisture transfer and minimizing friction.
- Vented mesh toe channel helps to keep things light and airy within the shoe.
Part Numbers
Option | UPC | MPN |
Black / Small | 888818612543 | 64720-2602 |
Black / X-Large | 888818613205 | 64720-2605 |
Hyper Green / Small | 888818612789 | 64720-2612 |
Hyper Green / Medium | 888818613090 | 64720-2613 |
Hyper Green / Large | 888818613403 | 64720-2614 |
Hyper Green / X-Large | 888818612062 | 64720-2615 |

subset: commoncrawl


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The magnificent views from the hotel are punctuated with the scents of nature and the calls of wild birds or the buzz of the bees, busy collecting nectar from the abundance of colourful wild flowers.
The small island of Sark lies a few miles from Guernsey and can be reached by boats that make the journey several times a day. The island is approximately 3.5 miles long by 1.5 miles across and offers a wide variety of scenery. Magnificent views reflect the ever-changing mood of sun, sea and sky in clear unpolluted air.
For a much larger map of the island, which can be downloaded and printed, please click on the small map shown here. è
Video of Sark Courtesy of Visit Guernsey.com
Sark is such a beautiful island, it is difficult to explain its natural rugged beauty to people without showing them exactly what we mean. This short video clip, courtesy of the tourist board allows you to share some of the magic.
Walking around the island reveals the true beauty of the surroundings. There is a wonderful variety of scenery in a small area. It's easy to cover the whole island on foot or use a bike. Magnificent views and totally unpolluted air make the outdoor experience even more enjoyable. Little Sark is the southern most part of the island with many beauty spots such as Grand Grève, one of Sark's best sandy beaches, and the famous pools of Venus and Adonis are are within easy walking distance from La Sablonnerie. Sark is about the simple life and enjoying nature. La Sablonnerie makes sure you have the perfect place to stay to enjoy the pleasures of the island.
Sark has been the location for the BBC documentary, An Island Parish, and features many of the famous locations and views from the island.


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A full-service animal removal and wildlife control company. Located in Monmouth County, New Jersey providing pest wildlife control in Asbury Park New Jersey and the surrounding metro area. We specialize in the removal and control of wildlife from your Asbury Park NJ home or business. Some of the most common calls for animal removal Asbury Park are raccoons, skunks, squirrels, snakes, bats, rats, mice and rodents. Animal removal in Asbury Park is closely regulated by the County and by the state of New Jersey to ensure humane and proper treatment of wildlife. We have the proper documentation from the New Jersey Department of game and inland fisheries and have the proper insurance and license to perform work to your home.
The most common problem that animal removal agents find in Asbury Park wildlife control is squirrel removal, bat removal, raccoon removal, rat removal, skunk removal, snake removal, and rodent removal.
Asbury Park Raccoon Removal
Asbury Park raccoon removal is another common animal problem we deal with in Monmouth County New Jersey. Raccoons are very clever animals and they can adapt very well to the suburban environment of Asbury Park NJ. Raccoons dig through trash, dig up yards and destroy everything to obtain food. Asbury Park raccoon control is critical as the raccoons can get into your attic and do a large amount of damage in a short period of time. Raccoons should not be allowed to stay in your attic and should be removed as soon as they are discovered.
Raccoons can be one of the most destructive animals in New Jersey. Raccoons are responsible for over $2 billion annually in insurance claims throughout the United States. The damage that raccoons due to your Asbury Park home can be astronomical. Raccoons damage ductwork, raccoons soil insulation and raccoons cause damage to attic vents. They can also pose a threat to your family's health by possibly bringing in diseases that are easily spread to humans. Asbury Park raccoon removal is on the rise and this animal should not be allowed to spend another night in your home or attic.
Asbury Park Squirrel Removal
Asbury Park squirrel removal is a very common call in the spring and fall. Squirrels take advantage of the housing in Asbury Park and can be seen jumping from rooftop to rooftop and running back-and-forth on the power lines. Asbury Park squirrel removal and squirrel control is on the rise and should be handled as soon as you find squirrels in the attic or home. The last thing you want is allow the squirrels to stay in your attic! Many homeowners in Asbury Park New Jersey have need for squirrel control. Squirrel removal should be handled in a timely fashion so the squirrels do not chew your electrical wiring and dig holes in your sheet rock as they are in the birthing process in your attic. Squirrels are usually tree dwelling animals in Asbury Park New Jersey. Squirrels should not be a welcome guest in your home. As soon as you become aware of a squirrel living in your attic or other area of your home you should immediately contact a professional Asbury Park squirrel removal technician.
Asbury Park Skunk Removal
Asbury Park skunk removal can help when you find skunks in your yard. Skunks can often be found nesting under your porch or shed. Skunks should be removed by a professional because when skunks feel trapped, they will spray. At A All Animal Control we are experts at removing skunks humanely. Skunks will often be found digging up your yard in search of food. We can help with skunk control and skunk removal in Asbury Park. Don't let skunks build nests under your house. Call A All Animal Control Today.
Asbury Park Bat Removal
Asbury Park Bat Removal has been on the rise for many years. Bats have been found in courthouses, churches and many homes and businesses throughout Monmouth County NJ. The most common problem associated with bats in your attic is the large amount of bat guano that builds up over a period of time. Bats should never be allowed to live in your attic and when bats are discovered, call a bat removal and bat control professional immediately, especially an expert at Bat Exclusion.
Asbury Park bat guano cleanup has risen significantly over the past three years. The average cost of bat removal in Asbury Park is relatively low in the initial stages. However, if this bat problem is allowed to remain, the cost of bat removal and guano cleanup in your Asbury Park attic goes up significantly. There are costs associated with the guano removal from the attic and some degree of biohazard cleanup because of the bat infestation in your Asbury Park New Jersey attic.
Asbury Park Bird Control
Asbury Park bird control is one of the hardest calls we receive because Birds can be very challenging to control. We can help with problems like birds in the vents, birds on top of buildings and solar panels. We handle all types of bird problems, just give us a call. We can also help with bird exclusion to help keep birds from returning to your Asbury Park home or business.
A All Animal Control can also install bird spikes, bird netting, electrical track and other bird control solutions. We can help with Asbury Park Bird Control so call us today.
Asbury Park Rat Removal
The Norway Rat, Roof Rat, and House Mouse inhabit most of the areas of North America that people inhabit including Asbury Park NJ. Droppings and brown marks along the sides of walls is a likely sign of a rat problem. Scratching noises and chewed holes are another indication that rats or mice have found a home in your property. Rats and mice like to chew electrical wires which creates not only a headache to fix but can be a dangerous fire hazard! In Asbury Park New Jersey, the Roof Rat is very common, and they will often seek your attic. They will contaminate food and also live in your walls. Call for rats in the attic or walls.
Asbury Park Snake Removal
Asbury Park has experts in Snake Removal. There are a variety of snakes found in Asbury Park New Jersey, some of which are venomous. Snakes play any important role as both predator and prey as they consume other animals. This can be beneficial for things like keeping the rat population down. Snakes can be very dangerous and will attack if provoked. Snakes will enter your Asbury Park NJ home to find a food source, such as mice and rats. A snake can enter any hole that a mouse or rat can squeeze through.
Sealing all crevices where pipes and electrical wires enter the dwelling will help prevent snakes from making their home in your house. This requires professional snake exclusion, property inspections and proper snake removal. Prevent the snake from being sealed inside your Asbury Park NJ home. We can help with all types of Asbury Park Snake Control.


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It was announced today that systemwide Academic Senate representing the 10 campuses of the University of California system had passed an "open access" policy.
The policy will work like this. Before assigning copyright to publishers, all UC faculty will grant the university a non-exclusive license to make the works freely available, provide the university with a copy of the work, and select a creative commons license under which is will be made freely available in UC's eScholarship archive.
A lot of work went into passing this, and its backers – especially UCLA's Chris Kielty – are to be commended for the cat herding process required to get it though UC's faculty governance process.
I'm already seeing lots of people celebrating this step as a great advance for open access. But color me skeptical. This policy has a major, major hole – an optional faculty opt-out. This is there because enough faculty wanted the right to publish their works in ways that were incompatible with the policy that the policy would not have passed without the provision.
Unfortunately, this means that the policy is completely toothless. It provides a ready means for people to make their works available – which is great. And having the default be open is great. But nobody is compelled to do it in any meaningful way – therefore it is little more than a voluntary system.
More importantly, the opt-out provides journals with a way of ensuring that works published in their journals are not subject to the policy. At UCSF and MIT and other places, many large publishers, especially in biomedicine, are requiring that authors at institutions with policies like the UC policy opt-out of the system as a condition of publishing. At MIT, these publishers include AAAS, Nature, PNAS, Elsevier and many others.
We can expect more and more publishers to demand opt-outs as the number of institutions with open/public access policies grows. In the early days of such "green" open access, publishers were pretty open about allowing authors to post manuscript versions of their papers in university archives. They were open because there was no cost to them. Nobody was going to cancel a subscription because they could get a tiny fraction of the articles in a journal for free somewhere on the internet.
However, as more universities – especially big ones like UC – move towards institutional archiving policies, an increasing fraction of the papers published in subscription journals could end up in archives – which WOULD threaten their business models. So, of course (and as I and others predicted a decade ago), subscription publishers are now doing their best to prevent these articles from becoming available.
So long as the incentives in academia push people to publish in journals of high prestige, authors are going to do whatever the journal wants with respect to voluntary policies at their universities. And so, we're really back to where we were before. Faculty can make their work freely available if they want to – and now have an extra way to do it. But if they don't want to, they don't have to.
The only way this is going to change is if universities create mandatory open access policies – with no opt-outs or exceptions. But this would likely require actions from university administrators who have, for decades, completely ignored this issue.
So don't get me wrong. I'm happy the faculty senate at UC did something, and I think the eScholarship repository will likely become an important source of scholarly papers in many fields, and the use of CC licenses is great. And maybe the opt out will be eliminated as the policy is reviewed (I doubt it). But, because of the opt out, this is a largely symbolic gesture – a minor event in the history of open access, not the watershed event that some people are making it out to be.


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Romance with a Twist (2024)
Luna is a former dancer, who left that dream behind for a grounded life managing her family's construction business and gets the opportunity to transform a gymnasium into a studio for aerials. As she sneaks a moment to try dancing in the silks, she is surreptitiously discovered by Bennet, a professional aerialist, who has returned home from performing around the world. Bennet is none too pleased to walk in to find his contractor messing around on the silks, but when his partner for an upcoming show drops out, he soon recruits Luna to perform with him. As the hard work of this dynamic sport and the joys of Luna returning to her roots as a dancer bring them closer together, will their relationship crash or will they find a way to reach new heights?


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New post from Sean Redmond
Make-Up 'All Hands Meeting'
Make-Up 'All Hands Meeting'
November 10, 2019 10:30 – 12:00
San Diego LGBT Pride, 3620 30th St, San Diego, CA 92104 in North Park.
Thank you for your service and volunteer time to Stonewall Citizens' Patrol. We missed you at our 'All Hands Meeting' on Saturday, October 26th. No worries, there are two shorter makeup sessions you can attend on Sunday, November 10th and Sunday, January 5th. Both sessions will be conducted at the San Diego Pride Office, 3620 30th Street, San Diego CA 92104 in the North Park neighborhood, 1030-1200hrs.
We understand your available volunteer time is precious and, in most cases, very limited. This is the main reason we do not ask for any more than what was agreed upon (3 hours minimum monthly) when you applied to Stonewall Citizens' Patrol.
Please let me know which of these two makeups dates you can attend. Attending will make sure you stay well informed on new policies, procedures, and what to expect in 2020.
The information is posted in Volunteer Hub in the Patrol and Event Calendar forum. You also receive an invitation where you can click 'yes' to schedule a training session, as well as a Volunteer Hub Private Message.
We look forward to having you continue with Stonewall Citizens' Patrol into 2020 and beyond, but understand times and commitments change. If this is the case, no worries. Just let us know and we will adjust the roster accordingly, but we just need to hear back from you.
We would like to see as many SCP volunteers as possible tomorrow that still require this training.
Thank you for your time on this manner.


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In romantic love, I've often wielded disillusionment as armor. This conditioning emerged after a series of breakups that followed a familiar pattern: An incorrigible partner, unwilling to open themselves to the vulnerability required for honest love, deserted me. They remained physically present, but emotionally recoiled. At first, I imagined that I could convince them to return, showering them with care and affection, my caretaking impulse activated. In this dance, I was pliant and obliging, fantasizing about the promise of reciprocated, full love. But when they eventually left me behind, I turned on my body. I learned how to harden and detach, cooling my blood to love. The longer I was callous, the more impenetrable I became. I believed that disaffection could protect me from the threat of abandonment.
When love has unraveled like this, I've often found comfort in boleros. I've come to understand that their anguish carries a clandestine knowledge about how to soothe the afterburns of heartbreak. That wisdom exists in many songs by La Lupe, the Afro-Cuban icon who was known for tearing at her hair, shrieking at the top of her lungs and kicking off her shoes during ecstatic performances. But it's especially present in the beloved "La Tirana." It's there in her serrated lyrics, in the heaving gasps, guttural grunts and tortured asides that punctuate the song. "Según tu punto de vista / Yo soy la mala / Vampiresa en tu novela," she sings in the first verse ("In your point of view / I'm the bad one / The vamp in your drama"). A moment passes and she snickers. It's a knowing laugh, the kind that restores power to its keeper. In it, there is a reminder: I am devastated now, but this heartbreak will one day grant me resolve. "El día en que te dejé / Fui yo quien salió ganando," she belts at the end of the song. The day I left you, I was the one who came out winning.
In the classic boleros of artists like La Lupe, Olga Guillot and Toña La Negra, sorrow becomes a cradle of power — a vessel for intimacy, compassion and trust. Their defiance has endured in a new wave of artists who are reimagining the form, such as Xenia Rubinos, Kali Uchis, Mon Laferte and dozens of others. In their reappraisal, there emerges a once camouflaged kind of gendered rebellion. The dissent of their forebears isn't just reanimated, it's sharpened for a new generation. They remind us that boleros can be insurgent: potent refusals to genuflect to the quotidian cruelties and deceptions of the patriarchy.
The bolero has circulated across both national and musical borders, but its story begins in the Caribbean. In the late 19th century, Afro-Cuban troubadours from Santiago de Cuba sang romantic lyrics over the strums of their guitars, eventually bringing their compositions to Havana. The genre later traveled to the nearby Yucatán peninsula, most likely via Cuban artists who traversed the 135-mile strait connecting the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea. In the late 1920s, it spread to the Mexican capital, and in the decades that followed expanded across Latin America. Novel iterations of the genre incorporated elements of modernist poetry and new instruments like the piano, and standardized formats such as the trio. By the 1950s, the bolero had exploded commercially, thanks in part to celebrated composers and groups like Agustín Lara, Los Panchos and Trio Matamoros.
This time around, most of the composers are women. Their messages of refusal are more apparent, finally unobscured from the enigmatic veil of generations past.
Predictably, the most well-known bolero composers were men. The lovelorn stories they penned replicated familiar tropes: women described as cruel seductresses hellbent on destruction, or unattainable objects of obsessive, violent romance. If the vocalists were women themselves, their legacies often intersected with the torment they felt and performed, blurring the line between mythos and historical record. They became vague, depressive personas, representing the quintessential image of a hysterical, tragic diva: a woman consumed by her heartbreak.
But these women didn't view sadness as self-definition. They were insisting to be seen and held in their suffering. Perhaps that's not immediately detectable — at least, not in the recognizable way acts of liberation usually manifest. But listening to any woman in music requires peeling the layers off the audible surface. When immersed in the textures of boleros, you can hear that this grief isn't just a bottomless abyss. Here, there is a sense of fortitude. These women are wading through the morass of their pain, seeking the fearlessness and dignity that the patriarchy denies them on the other side.
A new crop of artists have refreshed the architecture of boleros, magnifying their melancholy for the contemporary moment. Sometimes, there is psychedelic haze, as on Adrián Quesada's recent anthology Boleros Psicodélicos. Other times, there are echoes of R&B, like the La Lupe and Los Zafiros covers on Kali Uchis' 2020 album Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios)∞. Or maybe the genre is filtered through prismatic, translucent vocal effects, as on Xenia Rubinos' "Ay Hombre." Culled from a fountain of influences, these new boleros function like living historical documents. They are syncretic archives, collecting all the embedded insight and aesthetic power of the genres they draw from. And this time around, most of the composers are women. Their messages of refusal are more apparent, finally unobscured from the enigmatic veil of generations past.
On "Ay Hombre," from Rubinos' 2021 album Una Rosa, the bolero is draped in a creeping organ, gloomy synths and the bleeding-heart guitar of Dominican musician Yasser Tejeda. Rubinos meditates on the estrangement of a former partner: "No pudiste darme la única cosa que pedí / Fue tu querer, fue tu querer," she sings ("You couldn't give me the only thing that I asked for / It was your love, it was your love.")
When Rubinos repeats the phrase "fue tu querer," the dirge pierces the body. This is the kind of heartbreak that crawls up the lungs, threatening to expand in the ribcage and burst in the throat. It throbs in the forehead, knocking and begging to be let out. Before long, an avowal of Rubinos' power arrives, as if summoned from La Lupe herself: "Llegará el día en que te vas a arrepentir / Nunca te atrevas a buscarme otra vez," she sings. The day will come when you'll regret it, she says. Don't you ever dare seek me out again.
The scholar Diana Taylor once wrote that "performances function as vital acts of transfer, transmitting social knowledge, memory and a sense of identity." In cultures impacted by colonial violence and Eurocentric assumptions about the supremacy of the written word, performances hold embodied knowledge. On "Ay Hombre," I hear Rubinos vivify the lessons of her antecedents. I hear the bolero amplified and refined by icy, spiked synth stabs and gauzy vocals, producing a kind of retrofuturist acuity about the catharsis and potential that sorrow can offer. In speaking and feeling through the grief, Rubinos renews the power that classic boleros have: the gift of always returning to ourselves, and resuming our place as the masters of our own desire.
I hear this wisdom on Girl Ultra's "rosas (dímelo)" too. On this slow-burning track, the Mexican singer-songwriter cuts and pastes her influences: deconstructed trip-hop, '90s R&B and, of course, classic Mexican boleros. It's a song about the process of facing a lover who's spurned you after you put it all on the line, who's turned your back on you even after you've given them all your roses. Girl Ultra wonders how she'll tell him about her desolation, as if reciting a mantra:
"¿Pero cómo te digo?
¿Cómo te digo?
¿Cómo te digo?
¿Cómo te digo?"
How can I tell you?
Feeling rejected and disillusioned in love can be universal, but it can be acute for the women and femmes who love men. Too often in these relationships, romantic love can be a game of power, not a practice of mutuality. And in a patriarchal world, the suppression of emotion and sentimentality are tools of domination. Feelings are seen as excessive, inappropriate and intolerable. We are taught to weaponize emotional distance and withdrawal to cope — to submerge sorrow and keep its head under water.
In a world that demands women and femmes swallow their pain, boleros dive into it, inverting the patriarchy's request for capitulation. The hurt is no longer something to stifle. It is not a call for resilience either, a facile expectation that places the onus of repair on the wounded and overshadows the reality that healing is a collective endeavor. An emphasis on individual resilience masks the source of the affliction, too: the fact that the patriarchy also bankrupts men's capacity to feel.
Suffocating in sorrow, building an identity around it and dooming ourselves to bitterness does not have to be the standard by which we experience love. "Que Sufras," a song by the Chicana artist (and my close friend) Doris Anahí, illustrates a similar truth. The visceral llanto appears on her recent EP, Aprendiendo por Las Malas. Its foundation is the bolero, but produced with elements of norteño and mariachi: wistful strings, a syrupy accordion and an aching horn section. It opens with a command: "Te gusta el dolor / Que sufras, pues," she croons ("You like pain / Well suffer, then"). The singer said she derived the lyric from a saying her mom repeats: "A los hombres les encanta sufrir, so déjenlos sufrir." Men love to suffer, so let them suffer.
The phrase "que sufras pues" isn't intended as an act of revenge. It's not about retaliation, it's just observational: if you refuse to receive love, she seems to say to men, it will only usher you into more misery. And under the surface, there's a warning for both her lover and herself. "How many times will I write this line?" she wonders in the song's final verse. Romantic anguish is inevitable, but trapping yourself in it over and over leaves permanent damage.
The Black feminist thinker bell hooks once wrote, "To be loving is to be open to grief, to be touched by sorrow, even sorrow that is unending." She understood that accepting despair as part of a loving practice is one way "to begin again on love's journey." It frees us from disconnection and fear, and reveals the radical possibilities of intimacy. But the responsibility to eradicate patriarchal harm in love is a shared one. As she asked in The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity and Love: "What will motivate males in a patriarchal culture who have been taught that to love emasculates them to change, to choose love, when the choice means that they must stand against patriarchy, against the tyranny of the familiar?"
Boleros are not just chronicles of the lives of abject divas, or rudimentary genre fusions. The artists reinventing the form sustain the fragments of another generation's learned tenderness and empathy. They join a genealogy of refusal, one that repels the patriarchal demand to constrict and conceal suffering. They call us toward discomfort – toward living in the truth of turmoil. By writing their own songs and collaging new genres, these musicians embolden the lessons of the past. Grief isn't always subtractive — sometimes, it can be generative. It can grant the kind of autonomy and self-knowledge that shepherds us toward collective liberation.
Copyright 2022 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org.


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Having a place to escape to when they take time off is a dream for many people. There are plenty of options out there for finding a consistent vacation spot. Two of the most popular are buying a vacation home or buying into a timeshare group. The one that makes the most sense for you will depend on your preferences and circumstances.
Why Buy a Vacation Home?
If you have one particular place that you love to vacation, you could buy your own property there to visit as often as you like. You'd never have to worry about availability.
And although buying a vacation home is a larger overall investment than a timeshare, home prices generally appreciate over time. That means you could purchase a vacation home, enjoy spending your free time there for a few decades, and then sell it for a profit, cashing in on all that equity gained over the years.
Another benefit of buying a vacation home is the potential to rent it out when you are not using it. If your property is in a popular or touristy area, you'll likely be able to keep it booked as much as you like, hopefully earning you enough to cover the mortgage every month and perhaps even more. The return on your investment could be very high.
Why Not Buy a Vacation Home?
Buying a second home is a significant financial investment. In addition to the closing costs and large down payment at the outset, you will also have to continue paying for monthly mortgage payments, taxes, homeowners insurance, and all the regular maintenance and repairs that come with homeownership. If you decide to rent out your vacation home, you may also decide to pay for a rental company to handle the logistics.
Why Buy a Timeshare?
A timeshare allows you to buy into a piece of an entire group of vacation accommodations. You pay so much a month or a year, and then you have access to properties owned by your timeshare for a certain number of days annually. The benefits include being able to enjoy resort-style rooms and amenities and being able to frequent your favorite spot or try new destinations for variety.
Why Not Buy a Timeshare?
With a timeshare you are limited in your options and timing based on your signing contract. You cannot simply use your timeshare property whenever you like.
You will also have to pay for maintenance fees for the upkeep of all the properties. This fee is due every year even if you don't get a chance to use the facilities.
If you ever decide you no longer want your timeshare, it can be difficult to sell your stake because there are plenty of others trying to sell their shares at any given time and plenty of salespeople clinching deals with the new customers, taking away potential buyers.
And when you sell, you typically do not turn a profit. Unlike buying a vacation property, you do not earn equity in a timeshare. You do not walk away with a financial gain like you do when you buy your own second home.
While both timeshares and vacation homes have their pros and cons, if you are looking for a good investment vehicle that also allows you to spend time in your favorite place, buying a vacation home may be the better fit for you.
If buying a vacation home is something that you would like to explore, give us a call today and we can help you understand what it takes to buy the vacation property that you want.
These materials are not from HUD or FHA and were not approved by HUD or a government agency.


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DIY Mardis Gras Photo Booth
What better souvenir to send home with your party guests than a picture of them letting the good times roll at your Mardi Gras festivities?
Find a friend willing to snap shots and either provide a Polaroid for instant pictures or use your or the guests' cell phones. (If using yours, you can include their photo in a "thanks for coming" text you send the next day!)
Go glam with your photo booth background by hanging bed sheets (purple, gold or green if you have it). Paper chains are another easy fix: make 8' chains (from floor to the top of your background area) using purple, gold and green construction paper. Another idea: Cover your backdrop wall with those same colors of post-it paper for a patchwork-style background. String colored lights in the background for extra sparkle.
Photographer assigned and backdrop created? Now you need props! Any or all of the following will bring the Mardi Gras spirit to life:
- Masks masks masks – provide many and encourage guests to use their own if you've included mask-making in your party games.
- Bead necklaces (especially gold, green, purple) – again, we're going for quantity here!
- Eye pencils for drawing mustaches, beauty marks and fancy eye-makeup.
- Hats – think party fedoras, sparkly tiaras and crazy headdresses.
- Feather boas.
- Toy brass instruments.
- Carnival glasses – buy cheap eyeglass frames at a dollar store, then decorate with sequins, feathers, beads, gold nail polish, etc.
- Online templates for masks and other Mardi Gras-themed accessories are easily found via an Internet search.
- Large cardboard cut-out frames to be held by the smiling groups being photographed.


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From acclaimed author and Costa winner Hilary McKay comes The Time of Green Magic: a beautiful, spell-binding novel about family, magic, an old house and a mysterious visitor . . .
Abi and her two step-brothers, Max and Louis, find that strange things happen when they are alone in their eerie, ivy-covered new house. Abi, reading alone, finds herself tumbling deep into books, while Louis summons a startling guest through his bedroom window. Even Max has started to see shapes in the shadows... Their busy parents see none of it - but Louis' secret visitor is growing too alarming to keep secret, and he finds he cannot manage without Max and Abi's help.
Can they find out where the mysterious creature has come from - and how to get it back there?
The Time of Green Magic


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If you are looking for a cosy, perfectly situated and spacious accomodation, look no further. Backvillan has all the facilities you might need for your Swedish mountain holiday. Five bedroms; two with separable double beds, two with Norwegian style family bunkbeds (120 cm width lower and 90 cm upper) and one with a normal bunkbed.
The kitchen is fully equipped for self-catering and there is a ski room, a large sauna and parking just outside the door.
Situated very close to the hotel, you have access to restaurant, pub, gym, massage, ski shop and rental just a minutes walk away.
The age-limit for making room or self-service accommodation reservations is 18 years. All guests not travelling together with legal guardian like a parent must be at least 18 years old. At the New Years Holliday and Easter-weekend the age limit is increased to 25 years.
Welcome to what is probably the best accomodaton in the Swedish mountains.


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An official website of the United States government
Advance copies of this statement are made available to the press under lock-up conditions with the explicit understanding that the data are embargoed until 8:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. Statement of Keith Hall Commissioner Bureau of Labor Statistics before the Joint Economic Committee UNITED STATES CONGRESS Friday, March 6, 2009 Madam Chair and Members of the Committee: Thank you for the opportunity to discuss the employment and unemployment data we released this morning. The sharp and widespread contraction in the labor market continued in February. Nonfarm payroll employment fell by 651,000, following declines of 681,000 in December and 655,000 in January. Since the recession began in December 2007, job losses have totaled 4.4 million, well more than half of which occurred in the past 4 months. In February, the unemployment rate climbed from 7.6 to 8.1 percent, the highest rate in over 25 years. Manufacturing employment declined by 168,000 in February and has dropped by 1.3 million since the start of the recession. Employment has fallen in nearly all manufacturing industries during this period. In February, manufacturing hours decreased by two-tenths of an hour, as did factory overtime hours. Construction employment fell by 104,000 in February with losses throughout the sector. This industry has shed 904,000 jobs since the recession began, with about half of the decline occurring in the past 4 months. In February, employment continued to decline sharply throughout most of the service-providing sector. Professional and business services employment dropped by 180,000, including 78,000 jobs lost at temporary help agencies. Employment in temporary help has fallen by 686,000 since the recession began. Other large over-the-month job losses occurred in transportation and warehousing (-49,000), especially trucking; financial activities (-44,000); retail trade (-40,000); and wholesale trade (-37,000). Elsewhere in the service-providing sector, health care employment continued to grow with an increase of 27,000 in February, about in line with its recent trend. Average hourly earnings for private-sector production and nonsupervisory workers increased by 3 cents, or 0.2 percent, in February. Over the past 12 months, average hourly earnings have risen by 3.6 percent. From January 2008 to January 2009, the seasonally adjusted Consumer Price Index for Urban Wage Earners and Clerical Workers (CPI-W) fell by 0.7 percent. Measures from the survey of households also showed continued deterioration of labor market conditions. The unemployment rate jumped by half a percentage point in February to 8.1 percent, the highest rate since December 1983. Jobless rates continued to trend up across the major demographic groups in February. The number of unemployed swelled by 851,000 to 12.5 million. Since the recession began, the rise in unemployment has been concentrated among persons who lost jobs, as opposed to job leavers or people joining the labor force. From December 2007 to February 2009, the number of job losers has doubled to 7.7 million, and their share of total unemployment has risen from 50.0 to 62.3 percent. The number of unemployed individuals experiencing long spells of joblessness also has risen. In February, 2.9 million persons had been unemployed for 27 weeks or longer, up from 1.3 million at the start of the recession. The employment-population ratio was 60.3 percent in February, down slightly over the month and well below its 62.7 percent level at the start of the recession. Among the employed, the number of persons working part time who would prefer to be working full time climbed sharply over the month. There were 8.6 million such workers in February, an increase of 787,000 over the month and nearly 4 million since the recession began. Among persons who were neither working nor looking for work in February, about 2.1 million were classified as marginally attached to the labor force, up from about 1.6 million a year earlier. These individuals wanted a job, were available for work, and had looked for a job within the last 12 months. The number of discouraged workers, a subset of the marginally attached who believed no jobs were available for them, has nearly doubled over the past 12 months to 731,000. In summary, nonfarm payroll employment fell by 651,000 in February, and the unemployment rate rose to 8.1 percent. Since the beginning of the recession in December 2007, job losses have totaled 4.4 million. My colleagues and I now would be glad to answer your questions.


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Hot out of the molds and ready to pick apart structure, the Strike King Rage Bug was designed with the help of bass fishing legend, Denny Brauer. Made to be the ultimate flip bait, its streamlined body allows it to slip in and out of tiny holes in cover, and its precise composition and ribbing allow it to produce the classic crawfish glide that bass can't resist. Featuring unique Rage Tail claws and appendages, it produces a tremendous commotion any time it hits the water, and its also loaded with Strike King's exclusive Coffee Scent for added attraction. Available in a wide range of tournament-proven colors, the Strike King Rage Bug has what it takes to elevate your flipping game.
Length | Quantity |
4" | 7 |


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Philip Roth Goes Home Again
Philip Roth Goes Home Again
Philip Roth, a prize-winning novelist and frequent Esquire contributor, died Tuesday night at the age of 85. In 2010, on the occasion of his thirty-first book, Esquire's Scott Raab returned to the Newark of Roth's boyhood. And there, on Philip Roth Plaza, he couldn't stop laughing.
Scott Raab
May 22, 2018
This story first appeared in the October 2010 edition of Esquire.
There are worse places to be stuck in traffic than midtown Manhattan, worse people to be stuck with than Philip Roth. It's pretty nice, actually: Esquire hired a car to schlep us to New Jersey, Roth's old Jewing grounds, a jet-black SUV with a name — Tahoe? Denali? HinduKush? — and backseat as big as all outdoors, icy air-conditioning, and a small man at the steering wheel.
Roth's reputation, especially when it comes to stuff like doing publicity, is daunting. He is severely smart. Suffers fools badly. Parries, rather than answers, questions.
True, true, and true. Roth has the mien and bearing of a man in charge by dint of brainpower alone. He is tall and thin, hawkeyed, comfortable in silence. He takes words in — visibly takes their measure — with no more than a cock of an eye or a narrowed brow. Say something particularly insipid and he may purse his lips.
And how else would anybody but a fool meet the world? This is no celebrity. This is a poker-faced novelist, a man who tasted fame, gagged, and spit it out, the same man who two-plus decades back told an interviewer, "I am very much like somebody who spends all day writing."
Not today. Today we're Newark-bound, and to break the ice, I've brought the master a gift. It's a copy of the New American Review containing perhaps the worst thing Roth has ever published, a long short story titled "On the Air."
"Wonderful!" Roth says. "I don't have it."
You do now.
"I hate that story."
I'm not so fond of it myself.
"I was experimenting with excess. You know what that's like? I just wondered how far I could go, and I discovered what my limit was."
Roth's talking about his reading these days, revisiting a revered Russian master of the nineteenth century, Ivan Turgenev.
"Fathers and Sons is a great book — there's a new translation of it. I think it's called Fathers and Children now, and the translation is wonderful. And there are several long short stories that are pearls. One is called 'The Torrents of Spring' or 'Spring Torrents,' which is a masterpiece, and the other — which is beyond masterpiece — is called 'First Love.' Read those two things."
Roth chortles with something like delight. He stopped teaching twenty or so years ago but still seems as if he'd fit in on any campus in any decade. It's not only his outfit — tan slacks, blue-and-white-checked shirt with the sleeves rolled loosely up his skinny forearms, brown walking shoes — but also his easy passion for those writers who've nourished his soul.
I mention Joseph Conrad, whose clinical eye, deceptive clarity, and long, loping rhythms remind me of Roth's own.
"He's a pure powerhouse. I recently read a biography of him that's kind of interesting, too, an English biography. There's also Conrad's great short novel, which I hadn't reread since I was in my twenties, The Nigger of the Narcissus. It's an absolute masterpiece. Beyond belief. And about race, it's brilliant. So brilliant. Conrad is rich. He's very rich."
Again with the chortle. To feast so deeply upon words, it says, is luscious beyond words, a way of being in the world while being free of the world's whims, and a way of knowing humanity free of the mess of humans. It is rich, very rich — a schoolboy's love rather than a scholar's.
"I've enjoyed teaching — not teaching writing. I taught literature at the University of Pennsylvania, and I liked that very much. It was a great way of getting out of the house, of not being stuck alone in my room all day, and, as I have Lonoff say in The Ghost Writer, I got to use a public urinal — that was a breakthrough — and also I got to read a lot. That was the best of it — I got to read and think about books and study books. My education comes from teaching, really."
"Hey," the driver says, "you want to try the Howen Tunnel?" English is not his first language.
"Holland Tunnel," Roth echoes. "Why? Is this no good?"
"Yah. See — not moving."
"You don't think we can get from here to the Lincoln Tunnel in a few minutes?"
"Then let's go downtown."
"Could be half hour maybe."
"Let's go downtown."
"Not moving."
"Let's go downtown."
"All right."
"We're going to do this interview in Chinatown," Roth tells me.
"No," says the driver. "I not going Chinatown."
Roth's gusting laughter fills the SUV.
"Just tell them about how I wrote about Chinatown," he roars. "Just set the whole thing there."
Roth is both powerhouse and plow horse. His new book, Nemesis, is his thirty-first; he has published eight novels in the past ten years. He was a twenty-seven-year-old wunderkind in 1960, when Goodbye, Columbus won the National Book Award; in 1969, Portnoy's Complaint earned him both a fortune and — thanks to its uninterrupted 274-page monologue, the comic confessions of a serial masturbator — a gossip-column fame that lingered even as Roth himself fled from public view; in 1979, he gained a literary second wind with the creation of Nathan Zuckerman, the narrative voice of nine novels — including American Pastoral, which won the Pulitzer prize in 1998. Roth's currently working on book thirty-two.
"It could be outdated" is all he'll say about it.
You really think so?
"I don't think so, nah. No. But I have a lot of work to do."
Hard to believe, but the man is seventy-seven years old now. The survivor of two childless marriages, wed only to the word, Roth has outlived a slightly older cohort of Jewish-American writers — biased I no doubt am, but has any other American ethnic group boasted a top-of-the-order to match Malamud, Mailer, Roth, Bellow, and Heller? — and continues to outpace his few living peers. Every year I wait for the worthies of the Swedish Academy to come to their senses and bestow upon Roth the Nobel Prize in Literature; they never have.
Forgive me, I say, but with the Nobel, every year on the announcement day I grind my teeth.
"Oh, yes?" he says, entirely noncommittal, like a physician waiting for a patient to describe his symptoms further.
Every year I wait to hear them speak your name. So — is this a day that you're even aware of?
"No, it isn't," he says. Then he pauses. "I try not to be aware of it."
Someday. After they've made amends to each and every possible political constituency across the globe, your day may come.
"After the Trobriand Islanders," Roth shrugs, and laughs.
The traffic heading to the Holland is less heavy, but not much. Roth, bless him, doesn't complain. I sneak one long sideways peek at his nose: a classic Ashkenazi beak, a scimitar of flesh, the sort of schnozzle that put the rhino in rhinoplasty.
You and I go back many years, I finally say.
"Is that right? Where do we go back to?"
To 1969. To Portnoy.
"Oh, yes? How old were you in 1969?"
Seventeen. I was certainly fine with masturbating by then, but the idea that a writer was free to write anything — anything — any way he wanted had never dawned on me.
"Oh, yes?"
Ronald Nimkin's suicide. On page 98, Portnoy says, "My favorite detail from the Ronald Nimkin suicide" and then riffs for another twenty-two pages about the cage of love and guilt built for him by his parents' love and need before supplying that detail — a telephone message that fifteen-year-old Ronald had pinned to his shirt for his mother to find with his corpse.
"Now," Portnoy asks, "how's that for good to the last drop?"
That a serious writer could be so terrifyingly funny, could just let it rip — and could leave the reader himself hanging through five thousand howling words — all this was a huge revelation to me.
"I let it rip," Roth says. "I had written three books prior that were all careful in a way. Each was different from the other, but they didn't let it rip, and now was my chance. It was written at the tail end of the sixties, so all that was happening around one, and I was living in New York at the time, so the theatrics around me gave me confidence."
You were quite the bon vivant.
"No, no. I knew some interesting guys in the sixties — it was hard not to. I had a friend who had a strong influence on me, not as a writer, just as a friend. I was very fond of him; he was a terrific live wire — Al Goldman. He taught at Columbia. He wrote a classical-music column. He was very much a serious literature professor.
"The sixties transformed him. I don't know anyone more transformed — and many people were transformed. Al became a rock-music critic for Life, and he was my rock instructor. He used to take me to Madison Square Garden when he was covering various people.
"B. B. King came to the Garden, and Al took me backstage to meet him just after Portnoy's Complaint came out. The girls were lined up around the block for B. B. King's dressing room, and in back with him he had a half a dozen or so acolytes in powder-blue suits, and we sat around and talked for a while. Then I went to get the seat while Al interviewed him further — and when I left, B. B. King looked at his boys in their powder-blue suits, rubbed my seat, and said, 'This guy just made a million dollars from writin' a book.'
"I went to a Janis Joplin concert with him, I went to a Doors concert with him — it was wonderful. He knew everything — he could educate me. It was all brand-new to me."
Somehow, though, I can't see you as a guy diving headlong into the sixties. I can't imagine Philip Roth getting high.
"I didn't get high, no. I was — one was delighted by the theatrics of the sixties. I'd come out of the fifties, and we didn't have these theatrics."
You were an observer.
"I guess you would say that. I wouldn't become a member of that generation. I was a member of my generation. It was just all new to me, and Al knew everything about it. He died, poor bastard. Dropped dead on an airplane going to London, and his body was held in a refrigerator at Heathrow."
How long did he spend in the cooler?
"He was there a couple of days, because they had to do something about getting his body out and back to America. He had only paid for his way over."
Nothing about this sounds snide, much less ironical, coming from Philip Roth. These are the mere grace notes that go with manhood's end, the smaller details of the inevitable and often absurd catastrophe that fetches a man from wherever he stands and delivers him to oblivion's gate.
"Luckily he had a girlfriend with him," Roth adds after a moment.
For such things, Roth truly has a jeweler's eye.
"How could a street as modest as ours induce such rapture just because it glittered with rain?" he wrote in The Plot Against America. "How could the sidewalk's impassable leaf-strewn lagoons and the grassy little yards oozing from the flood of the downspouts exude a smell that roused my delight as if I'd been born in a tropical rain forest? Tinged with the bright after-storm light, Summit Avenue was as agleam with life as a pet, my own silky, pulsating pet, washed clean by sheets of falling water and now stretched its full length to bask in the bliss.
"Nothing would ever get me to leave here."
He left — for Bucknell and for the University of Chicago, for the Upper West Side and for a Revolutionary-era farmhouse in Connecticut, for a life in American letters without parallel. He left, but he took all this with him, and there is splendor, comic and otherwise, in savoring what remains — of Summit Avenue and of its prodigal son who has always remembered to forget nothing.
"They've got a plaque, too," Roth says, walking a few steps to 81 Summit, the second home from the corner. The patch of lawn behind the chain-link fence needs trimming. The first floor of the house is clad in faux-stone siding, the second in a faded yellow. Five narrow first-floor windows face Summit, each behind a grate whose black bars match the railings on either side of the redbrick stoop. The windows are set in a three-two arrangement and in the middle, screwed into the original wood beneath the siding, sits a square tablet.
Below, in an eleven-line précis of his career, the plaque notes that the Roths lived on the second floor until 1942.
"Whaddaya think of that, huh?" Roth wants to know.
What do you think?
"I think it's great. The woman whose house this is is named Mrs. Roberta Harrington. She's a very nice lady; I'd like if she would come outside and talk. When they held the ceremony about four years ago, Mrs. Harrington got all dressed up and she came to the stairs there and I went over to say hello to her, to shake her hand, and she said, 'Step up here and give me a kiss.' We had a reception at the branch library and she was with me for the rest of the day."
The front door is shadowed by an eave, but some motion there catches Roth's eye.
"Maybe that's her," he says, approaching the stoop. "I hope she's alive."
Roth walks up the five steps to the front door, which is pushed halfway open by a strapping fellow who might be in his thirties.
"Hi," Roth says. "Is Mrs. Harrington home?"
"I believe she is, yeah," answers the fellow at the door.
"Would you tell her that Mr. Roth is here?"
The younger man fairly beams. "Mr. Roth," he says, "how are you?"
"Good. Did I meet you last time?"
"No, you didn't. But I know all about you."
"Oh, yeah?" Roth says brightly.
"I certainly do." And with that, he raps on the door to Mrs. Harrington's flat and she appears a few moments later, very much alive, in a sleeveless white blouse and white slacks, a brown head scarf knotted low on her forehead.
"How could a street as modest as ours induce such rapture just because it glittered with rain?" he wrote in The Plot Against America. "How could the sidewalk's impassable leaf-strewn lagoons and the grassy little yards oozing from the flood of the downspouts exude a smell that roused my delight as if I'd been born in a tropical rain forest? Tinged with the bright after-storm light, Summit Avenue was as agleam with life as a pet, my own silky, pulsating pet, washed clean by sheets of falling water and now stretched its full length to bask in the bliss.
"Nothing would ever get me to leave here."
He left — for Bucknell and for the University of Chicago, for the Upper West Side and for a Revolutionary-era farmhouse in Connecticut, for a life in American letters without parallel. He left, but he took all this with him, and there is splendor, comic and otherwise, in savoring what remains — of Summit Avenue and of its prodigal son who has always remembered to forget nothing.
"They've got a plaque, too," Roth says, walking a few steps to 81 Summit, the second home from the corner. The patch of lawn behind the chain-link fence needs trimming. The first floor of the house is clad in faux-stone siding, the second in a faded yellow. Five narrow first-floor windows face Summit, each behind a grate whose black bars match the railings on either side of the redbrick stoop. The windows are set in a three-two arrangement and in the middle, screwed into the original wood beneath the siding, sits a square tablet.
Below, in an eleven-line précis of his career, the plaque notes that the Roths lived on the second floor until 1942.
"Whaddaya think of that, huh?" Roth wants to know.
What do you think?
"I think it's great. The woman whose house this is is named Mrs. Roberta Harrington. She's a very nice lady; I'd like if she would come outside and talk. When they held the ceremony about four years ago, Mrs. Harrington got all dressed up and she came to the stairs there and I went over to say hello to her, to shake her hand, and she said, 'Step up here and give me a kiss.' We had a reception at the branch library and she was with me for the rest of the day."
The front door is shadowed by an eave, but some motion there catches Roth's eye.
"Maybe that's her," he says, approaching the stoop. "I hope she's alive."
Roth walks up the five steps to the front door, which is pushed halfway open by a strapping fellow who might be in his thirties.
"Hi," Roth says. "Is Mrs. Harrington home?"
"I believe she is, yeah," answers the fellow at the door.
"Would you tell her that Mr. Roth is here?"
The younger man fairly beams. "Mr. Roth," he says, "how are you?"
"Good. Did I meet you last time?"
"No, you didn't. But I know all about you."
"Oh, yeah?" Roth says brightly.
"I certainly do." And with that, he raps on the door to Mrs. Harrington's flat and she appears a few moments later, very much alive, in a sleeveless white blouse and white slacks, a brown head scarf knotted low on her forehead.
"Hi, how are you?" she says.
"Hi," answers Roth. "How are you?"
"Good, good, good." Her face is like an old catcher's mitt, round and seamed, but the flesh of her arms is firm and her fingernails are bright red. For a couple of gnarled Newarkers circlingeighty, Mrs. Harrington and Mr. Roth look terrific.
"I was showing this gentleman how you're taking care of my plaque."
"I'm doin' the best I can with it. Excuse my yard, because I haven't got it cut yet."
"You look good."
"Thank you. I'm tryin' to keep myself up."
"It's nice to see you."
"It's nice to see you, too. So, are you just visiting?"
"Yeah. We're just visiting to take a look at it. Anybody ever come to look at it?"
"Quite a few people."
"Is that right?" Roth asks. "Yeah?"
Mrs. Harrington strokes her chin and nods slowly. "Quite a few people stop and look around, yeah. Mmmm-hmmm."
"Very good," says Roth.
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Mrs. Trudeau has been here, also."
"What was that?"
"Mrs. Trudeau. She's the lady that came before you to let me know that the plaque was gonna be put up."
"Oh," says Roth. "Del Tufo — Liz Del Tufo."
"I'd say about three weeks ago."
"Did you ever get somebody from the city to do something about your front yard?"
Mrs. Harrington looks at him ruefully.
"I never had no one to do anything for me in this house since they put the plaque up. They talked about it, but they never did it. They never did. Told me allllllll about what they were gonna do, but nobody came to my home."
Her plaint is muted, but she seems to have been working on it for a while.
"They told me that if I would let them put your plaque on the house, they would take care of my gardening."
"I remember that."
"But they never did. Maybe you could speak to them."
"I'll give Ms. Del Tufo a ring and tell her."
"I hope that you will."
"Okay," Roth says, entirely serious. "It's good to see you."
"It's nice to see you again, too," says Mrs. Roberta Harrington. "Sorry that my yard wasn't up to par. We've had quite a bit of rain."
"Anyway," Roth says when we're back on the sidewalk, "I used to sit on this stoop a lot."
Not a lot of room to throw a ball.
"Yes there is. You'd play aces-up out in the street. You'd throw the ball against the edge of the step and it bounces off into the street — single, double, triple, home run across the street."
Ever have a pet?
"Jews didn't have pets. On Summit, one guy across the street had a dog. It always seemed to me absolutely bizarre. I never was inside his house, so I didn't know what it would be like, but nobody else had a pet. It didn't even occur to me."
Down Summit we stroll, toward Chancellor Avenue — in Roth's day, the hub of neighborhood commerce, lined with small shops, now a wasteland, more or less, an urban desert abandoned except for a storefront chapel.
"There's now a stadium down at the end of the street, next to the grade school. There was no stadium in my day, just a big dirt field, which I use at the end of Nemesis, when Bucky throws the javelin."
Bucky Cantor is the new novel's central character, a twenty-three-year-old playground director and quintessential good boy whose courage, diligence, and unstinting rectitude turn out to be no match for a polio epidemic devouring Weequahic's young in the summer of 1944.
It's a harrowing book, I say to Roth. Relentless.
"Terrific. Thank you. I hope it's good."
Did you know anyone like Bucky?
"No. I really made him up. Figuring who was going to be at the center of this thing — whether it would be a parent, or nobody — I landed on a playground director. And that was a gift, because all the kids are there and he has to suffer with them all. All the children are his children."
And he considers them so.
"Yes. As I imagine a young playground director would."
What a noble Bucky he is.
"Yes," says Roth. "He is a noble Bucky. And he gets fucked."
His laugh is the laugh of a creator who has lived long enough — has himself seen and suffered enough — to face the inevitable. The mirth and mischief of earlier books seem long ago and far away. In Nemesis, as in most of his recent work, the human being is helpless, acted upon in awful ways by a cruel, indifferent universe.
"Yeah," Roth says. "I accept that. Even before the BP spill, I knew that. Life is one long BP spill. Trying to cap the well is what you have to do. People go around capping the well all the time. Then the next well. And the next."
Chancellor Avenue School, Roth's old primary school, is still standing, not far from Weequahic High, where he graduated at the age of sixteen.
"Let's go back to the playground," Roth says. "Then we'll come back out and try to go into the school."
When he sees that our path is blocked by a construction fence, Roth stands at its gate, gazing past the building.
"In fact, the playground doesn't exist," he says, still gazing. "It looks like they're building a parking garage."
"Mr. Roth," says Detective Santaniello, "did you know you always wanted to become a writer?"
"Not when I was a little one here. I went in the Army in 1955 or so, and then I began, at night there — I began to write stories."
Spotting a gap in the fence, Roth slips through, moving toward the back of the school.
"This was all playground," he says. "It was just a big open area for kids. Gone. Maybe it's for the best."
You think?
"That it's all for the best?" he says, still staring into the middle distance where the playground isn't. "Well, what can you do?"
Inside Chancellor Avenue School, it smells like floor wax and fish sticks. Sergeant Glover visits the school office to get us passes. Roth heads through the auditorium doors and stops, looking over the rows of empty seats to the dark stage.
"We came once a week and sang songs that supported the armed forces. In 1941 the war began; I was eight. When it finally ended, I was twelve, and we sat in here and we sang 'The Caissons Go Rolling Along,' and the Marine hymn — 'From the halls of Montezuma' — and the Air Force song."
And he breaks sweetly into "Off we go, into the wild blue yonder ..." and I join in on the "Climbing high into the sun... ."
"Very good," Roth laughs. "You want to sit down?"
After the auditorium, we visit the gym. A class of third- or fourth-graders is shouting and clapping in a cluster under a basketball hoop at the other end. Nobody pays any mind to Roth, who stays close to the doors, watching.
"It looks very much the same. The brickwork is the same. We had to do all that stuff in the ceiling — we had to climb those ropes. I hated it. I never liked the rope and the rings. And there used to be something called the pommel horse, where you did gymnastics."
I smell fish. You smell fish?
"It's Friday," Roth says. "You want to go next door to the high school?"
Visiting the high school turns out to be a bit of a production, even with Glover and Santaniello to get us past the metal detectors at the front door and with Roth's name and ancient yearbook photo on a black-and-white poster of the school's Hall of Fame inductees.
"What's your name again, sir?" The woman behind the counter in the school office is on the phone, trying to find someone to accompany us. Nobody — not even this mild-mannered Hall of Famer with two police in tow — prowls Weequahic High without a hall pass.
"Roth. R-O-T-H."
"He's just walking through the neighborhood," she tells whoever's on the phone with her. "He went to school here and at Chancellor, so he's just coming here to walk around."
Eventually, a vice-principal arrives to escort us, a perfectly nice woman who is particularly focused on showing off the school's "data room," an antiseptic, air-conditioned computer center entirely devoid of human life. Roth listens patiently — the cold air is delicious — as she rambles on. There are no students here, no evidence that any students ever have been here; the shelves and desks and chairs are carefully arranged, spotless; the room itself is cool, dark, and utterly generic; I can't imagine that anything in this building could possibly be of less interest to Philip Roth, and I suspect that no one here today has any firm idea who he is.
As we head back down the corridor, finally free, I see a yellow-and-black placard taped high upon the cream-colored wall:
Up and down the hallway, similar placards with other vocabulary words and definitions look down at the rows of lockers. This one, however, is staring right at Philip Roth.
Look, I say, pointing.
"Aha," says Roth, laughing again. "Now we know what your opening is going to be."
At Hobby's Deli, in downtown Newark, Glover, Santaniello, and I get sandwiches. Roth orders the feta-cheese salad with grilled chicken and the house dressing, oil and vinegar.
Nobody gets the Russian dressing anymore.
"That used to be the most popular," Roth says.
Was it?
"Sure. I used to love it. It's made with ketchup and mayonnaise."
What was Thousand Island? Russian mixed with French?
"It's gone out of existence, Thousand Island dressing. But oil and vinegar will never die."
The waitress brings Roth the small dressing bottles along with his salad.
"I gotta do it myself," he says.
I'll do it for you, if you wish.
"No, no — I can do it. I'll get my strength back."
He looks at my sandwich.
"What have you got there? A little bit of everything."
I've got corned beef. Chopped liver. More corned beef. You want a taste?
"No, no."
You avoid the cold cuts?
"More or less."
One of the proprietor's sons comes over to say hello.
"How is your father?" Roth asks.
"Overall, he's well. They're adjusting his pacemaker a little bit — lube, oil filter. Overall, thank God. Just celebrated his eighty-seventh birthday."
"Tell him I send my best regards."
"I sure will. He'll appreciate that."
"We weren't expecting the Iraq salamis in the back," Roth says, pointing to the far wall where bunches of them hang from the ceiling above a sign proclaiming OPERATION SALAMI DROP. Hobby's, it turns out, has shipped twenty-seven tons of salami to U. S. forces in Iraq and Afghanistan, sustaining a tradition begun when eighty-seven-year-old Samuel Brummer — Hobby's owner since 1962 — was a soldier in Europe during World War II.
"His buddies in Newark would send him a salami every month," says the son, "and as soon as he got it, everyone in his unit knew it. My father would take out his bayonet and cut off a hunk, and everyone would share."
I wonder how they slice them now. I don't think they have bayonets anymore.
"They don't have bayonets?" Roth says. "Sure they have bayonets."
He chews fast. A little noisy. I ask him how the Army was for him.
"The Army? I learned to use a bayonet."
Attacking dummies?
"Yeah. We used to shout 'Kill' when we did it. I was twenty-one, I guess. You'd attack the dummy and yell 'Kill' and hit him with your bayonet. In the Army, you can do anything."
A soundless TV to our left is tuned to CNN. Birds coated with gunk fill the screen.
"It's a shame," says Santaniello.
"Extraordinary," Roth says. "Covered. Just covered. And dying."
What prompted you to join the Army?
"If I didn't join, I would've been drafted. I wanted to get it over with. The Korean War had ended, but the draft was still on, so I enlisted rather than wait to be drafted."
"They say it'll be coming up this way if they don't put a cap on it," says Santaniello.
"If it turns around the Florida hook," Roth says. "Who knows? Twenty-five years from now, one thing we know for sure — the oil will still be coming out. I can die now. I can die knowing something, for sure."
Philip Roth |
The titanic black SUV is waiting to deliver us back to Manhattan. Inside, an R&B ballad is playing softly and the air is thick with cologne.
"Something's been going on here," Roth joshes.
I ask the driver what he's been doing in the car.
"I waited outside."
I think you had a little party in here.
He's laughing. We're all laughing.
You're okay? I ask Roth. You ready to head back?
This was all right?
"You willing to start again?" he laughs. "Do you want to do it all over again?"
Frankly, no. I'm exhausted.
He roars. "I know you want another shot at the computer lab," he says.
You're not tired?
You're fresh.
"I'm okay."
You're in good shape.
"I am in good shape," says Philip Roth, beaming.
God bless him. For years — many, many years — I've read about what fun Roth can be, a claim invariably undermined by a total lack of supporting evidence and inevitably buried beneath a ponderous discussion of a new Roth book and of Roth's work as a body. It's fantastic to see the man out and about, free of the peculiar calculus of being a literary figure, a shaman, a character upon whom readers and entire tribes — I'm looking at you, landsmen — have for half a century projected scrim after scrim of their own fear, neurosis, and plain old bullshit. Enough.
Read the books. The Newark wiseacre spitting out novels like a bachelor-party stripper firing Ping-Pong balls out of her snatch is seventy-seven years old now. Behold a master, treasure his work, and shut the fuck up. Just read the books.
You've brought me a lot of joy over the years, I gush.
"That's good," he says. "I'm delighted."
I had to say it, I say.
"I can take it," he says.
It's good that you didn't go to law school.
"It is," he says. "I think I would have had a coronary by now. I would have a family now who I never saw."
Has the writing gotten any easier?
"That's hard to answer. There are days and weeks that are very difficult. I've never been without the struggle. When I started writing, I did have false starts. I would write seventy-five, a hundred pages of something and toss it aside. I don't do that. I don't make false starts any longer. So that's an improvement.
"Who knows what'll happen in the next ten years. Maybe it'll get better. Maybe it'll get worse. I don't know. At this stage of the game, you don't know what's going to happen. You see different writers as they get old, what happens to them. Some shut down. Some write sporadically — the way Bellow did it.
"I have a slogan I use when I get anxious writing, which happens quite a bit: 'The ordeal is part of the commitment.' It's one of my mantras. It makes a lot of things doable."
Mine is from a fat relief pitcher, Bob Wickman: You gotta trust your stuff.
"That's very good. I used to have little things up over my desk at various times. One of them was 'Don't judge it.' Just write it. Don't judge it. It's not for you to judge it.
"I have four or five friends who I ask to read my final drafts and to say whatever they want to say to me about it. I put it through that sieve, and they tell me what they think about it, and then I consider it and make changes if it seems appropriate. Often it does. And there's an excellent copy editor at Houghton Mifflin, where I publish, a wonderful guy named Larry Cooper, and he goes over the thing very carefully and makes sure I don't make a schmuck of myself."
We're back through the Holland Tunnel and into the city.
"So what do you do now?" Roth asks. "Go back to the office?"
I'll go back and tell them it was horrible. I'll tell them you were very difficult and cranky.
"Tell them, 'All the guy wanted to do was go to the computer lab.' "
What do you do now?
"What do I do now?"
I need an ending.
"Oh, you need an ending. Well, the afternoon is cut short. I have to go see somebody in the hospital around five o'clock."
"She's all right. She'll be all right. I have a plate full of mail which I should answer — I can do that in the next two hours. That's what I'll do."
You own a shredder?
"I have a shredder in Connecticut."
I love a shredder. A good shredder.
"Shredders are good," Roth says.
Some days I find a kind of comfort in shredding.
"Don't end it with my shredding. Just the computer room at Weequahic gives you a terrific piece. Keep me in the computer lab."
Better there, I'm thinking, than a freezer at Heathrow. Better to keep typing and hope that Death, like the Nobel Committee, is busy looking for someone else to pluck.
"You've got more than you need," Roth says by way of farewell. "Don't fuck it up."


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So much for her sensitivity to the Native POV in the movie Big Miracle.
People shared this pic and it generated a flurry of negative comments. For instance:
When is the minstrel show?
Drew, NOOOOO! what are you thinking? Even this know nothing white chick from the bottom of the planet knows that wearing a Plains headress to be 'cool' is extremely offensive and disrepectful. Please please take this photo down, study up on cultural misappropriation and apologise.
Thanks Drew! Loved you since i was a little "redskin," I almost forgot that Budweiser, headdresses, and racist white women were a part of my DNA.
It is Drew...she isn't known for her deep thinking.
Drew--everyone knows you didn't purposely set out to offend anyone, and I hope you can look beyond the anger of the people you offended, and REALIZE why it is they are offended. Please educate yourself on all that has happened to Native people in this country. You and millions of others are unaware of the true history of Native people and their struggle to survive. Murdering of men, women, and children, boarding schools, sterilization, loss of homes, language and culture. This isn't ancient history, it happened within the last century, and there are still survivors among us. When you have the time, there's plenty of videos on YouTube that will tell you a story or two.
@Cory....When someone wants to walk the Red Road they watch, they listen and they seek advise from those that know. This is not someone who wants to be connected anymore than someone who wears a shirt that says my Indian name is Runs with Beer.
Over-reacting my butt!!!!
Soon Adrienne Keene weighed in in her Native Appropriations blog:
Drew Barrymore Sports a Headdress and a Budweiser Apron. Really.
You know what? You're a pretty cool chick. You were in ET back when you were little and adorable, and I respect that movie for scarring me for life when I was young and impressionable. You're a female producer, which is bad-ass. You donate lots of money to good causes, and you seem kinda nice in your interviews and stuff. Despite your coolness, you did something totally uncool. And that something totally uncool was posting a picture of yourself in an "Indian headdress"--which is bad enough--but then you went even further and paired it with a Budweiser apron. An apron that has. to. do. with. alcohol.
So some of us are doing this thing where this week we document all the instances of "Stereotypical Indians" we come across in our daily lives, and I think yours might take the cake. For the whole week. And it's only Tuesday. Cause not only do you give us the stereotypical war bonnet, you give us an association of Indians with alcohol, which is probably right up there with the worst possible stereotypes of Native people in the world ever. Nice work.
I know you probably didn't think about it at all, in fact, I really hope you didn't think about it, cause if it was intentional? That's a whole other barrel of monkeys. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and think there was some context here we aren't privileged to know about (like maybe you were shooting a PSA against Native stereotyping? Right?). But the fact that you (or your people, let's be real) not only took this picture, but made it your PROFILE picture on The Facebook Dot Com, and have left it up ALL DAY despite a sh*t-ton of comments telling you it's wrong? That's more than uncool. That ish is straight up oppressive.
Inevitably, some people accused Indians of playing the victim card, crying over the past, etc. My response to that:
It's funny that some people don't understand the difference between saying "this is wrong" and "poor us." They're two separate and almost unrelated things.
Is it also playing the victim card to note that 2 + 2 = 4, not 5? Pointing out a problem--a clogged toilet, a hungry child, or a misappropriated headdress--doesn't mean you're crying over it. It means you're trying to fix the problem and thus make the world a better place.
The good news is that Barrymore--or her people--removed the photo within a day or so. Once again, protests work. It's a good guess that she won't appear in a headdress again anytime soon.
For more on the subject, see Top 10 Native Fashion Misappropriations and Racist Costumes = White Privilege.


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Most villages in Norfolk have at least one ancient church, flint-built, with round or square tower. So I was looking of such a building when driving to the gig last night in the village of Spooner Row, as part of this year's Wymondham Music Festival. But surprisingly the church here is built of brick, slate rather than lead roof, no tower, just one bell, that hangs outside (and was taken from another church). I looked it up: Spooner Row church was built in 1847, in the Victorian period when many of the Saxon and medieval churches (which had managed to survive the English Civil War) were themselves having their interiors 'improved'.
The band I was in is called hymn, a trio of trumpet/loops, percussion/electronics and double bass. As the name might suggest it's a slightly slow music, harmonies and simple melodies, layered but spacious, perhaps contemplative or immersive. Kinda fitted the venue. The other band, Arthur, consist of alto sax, tuba, drums; their repertoire is inspired by the music of the late African-American saxophonist Arthur Blythe, and is somewhat more fiery, driving, and loud than hymn's.
I filmed a bit of Arthur's set standing in the rather sparsely populated graveyard of Spooner Row church, in the early evening summer sunset, at the end of a glorious English day. See below. I wanted just to think for a moment about the location, the mature trees all around and fields beyond, the quiet graveyard, the setting sun, a nearby row of cottages, the striking building of this unusual Norfolk church, at one of the outlying events of a music festival centred on the local market town of Wymondham.
I realised that this concert I was playing at was a CHIME event in a modest way, in the manner that all of these re-soundings in mild surprise of musical gatherings that are organised in festivals everywhere are CHIME events. The warm clash of sound and setting, improvisation (music) and solid foundation (building), are one of the things we can expect of a festival.
At this one I thought, too, of how in fact this church and the jazz are not so very far apart in their chronology, or originary narrative, both being made, sort of, arguably, in the same century for a start. Made me think, as I stood in the English churchyard last night, how old that music of modernism is—modernism is—then how very recent.


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As many of you saw last night, FROZEN won two Academy Awards® including Best Animated Feature and Original Song ("Let It Go")—the same day it crossed $1 billion at the worldwide box office! That's incredible!
Disney's Frozen—"Let It Go" Sing-Along Version
Can't get enough of "Let It Go?" Sing along here!
"Like" FROZEN on Facebook: https://www.
Follow FROZEN on Twitter: https://twitter.com/DisneyAnimation
Visit the official website: http://www.disney.com/frozen
Pre-Order Disney Frozen Today!
Bring home Disney's Frozen (Two-Disc Blu-ray/DVD + Digital Copy) and On-Demand March 18—featuring a blizzard of never-before-seen bonus extras with gorgeous animation, memorable characters and unforgettable music. It's dazzling fun for the whole family!
Full press release:
Disney's "FROZEN" Cross $1 Billion Worldwide
Winner of Two Academy Awards® Is Now Second Highest Grossing Animated Film Ever
BURBANK, Calif. – March 3, 2014 – On the same day it won two Academy Awards® including Best Animated Feature, "Frozen," Walt Disney Animation Studios' 53rd feature film, crossed $1 billion at the worldwide box office. The biggest non-sequel animated film ever released and the second biggest animated film of all time globally, "Frozen" has earned an estimated $388.8 million at the domestic box office and $611.5 million internationally for a global total of $1,000.3 million. It is The Walt Disney Studios' seventh release to reach the $1 billion mark, joining "Marvel's The Avengers" and "Iron Man 3," Disney's second and fourth "Pirates of the Caribbean" films, Disney•Pixar's "Toy Story 3," and Disney's "Alice in Wonderland."
"With 'Frozen,' we knew we had something truly special on our hands, and it has connected with fans and filmgoers around the world in a way we only dreamed was possible," said Alan Horn, Chairman, The Walt Disney Studios. "Animation is the cornerstone of our company, and thanks to the vision, dedication, and talent of our tremendous cast and filmmaking team, Disney Animation has come roaring back with a new classic for fans of all ages."
Universally embraced by audiences and critics alike, "Frozen" is the winner of two Academy Awards®, for Best Animated Feature and Original Song ("Let It Go"). This the first animated feature Oscar® win for Walt Disney Animation Studios in the category's 13-year history. The film has also won Golden Globe®, BAFTA, Critics' Choice, and Producers Guild of America awards for best animated film, five Annie Awards, and four Visual Effects Society Awards, among many other honors. The film is directed by Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee and produced by Peter Del Vecho.
"Frozen" opened wide domestically on November 27, 2013, following a five-day exclusive engagement at Disney's El Capitan Theatre in Los Angeles. In its record-setting nationwide opening, "Frozen" became the #1 all-time Thanksgiving debut with a $93.6M five-day gross and a $67.4M Friday-Sunday gross over the holiday period. It was Walt Disney Animation Studios' biggest opening ever. "Frozen" was the #1 movie in its second weekend of wide release and, after posting stellar numbers throughout the holiday season, returned to the top spot four weeks later in its sixth weekend. Due to popular demand, a special sing-along version of the film opened in theaters nationwide January 31, its 10th weekend of wide release. "Frozen" has remained in the top 10 films at the domestic box office for all 14 weeks of its wide release, the longest run by any film in four years.
Internationally, "Frozen" is the biggest animated film released by The Walt Disney Studios in more than 25 territories, including Russia, China, and Brazil, and Walt Disney Animation Studios' biggest release in over 50 territories, including UK/Ireland, Australia, Mexico, and Argentina, as well as the Latin America region as a whole. In Korea, "Frozen" was #1 for the first five weeks of release and is now the biggest animated film, the second biggest non-local film, and Disney's biggest release of all time. It's also the highest-grossing animated film of all time in Denmark and Venezuela, and the biggest non-sequel animated film in the U.K./Ireland. "Frozen" debuts in one remaining international territory, Japan, on March 14.
The Platinum-certified "Frozen" soundtrack, featuring songs by Tony Award® winner Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez and a score by Christophe Beck, returned to the #1 spot on the Billboard 200 album chart last week for a fifth time, the first soundtrack to do so since 1998. It entered the chart's top five in early January and has been #1 or #2 for eight consecutive weeks. It also hit #1 on iTunes' Overall Album Chart in 31 countries including the U.S. The Oscar®-winning song "Let It Go," performed by Tony Award winner Idina Menzel, who voices Elsa in the film, is also certified Platinum and last week reached #18 on Billboard's Hot 100 chart.
"Frozen" is still available in theaters in 2D, 3D and Sing-A-Long and is now available on Digital HD & 3D. It arrives on Blu-ray Combo Pack, DVD & On Demand on March 18.
About Disney's "Frozen"
Walt Disney Animation Studios, the studio behind "Tangled" and "Wreck-It Ralph," presents "Frozen," a stunning big-screen comedy adventure. Fearless optimist Anna (voice of Kristen Bell) sets off on an epic journey—teaming up with rugged mountain man Kristoff (voice of Jonathan Groff) and his loyal reindeer Sven—to find her sister Elsa (voice of Idina Menzel), whose icy powers have trapped the kingdom of Arendelle in eternal winter. Encountering Everest-like conditions, mystical trolls and a hilarious snowman named Olaf (voice of Josh Gad), Anna and Kristoff battle the elements in a race to save the kingdom. The film is directed by Chris Buck ("Tarzan," "Surf's Up") and Jennifer Lee (screenwriter, "Wreck-It Ralph"), who also wrote the screenplay. It is produced by Peter Del Vecho ("Winnie the Pooh," "The Princess and the Frog"). Featuring original songs from Kristen Anderson-Lopez ("In Transit," "Winnie the Pooh") and Tony® winner Robert Lopez ("The Book of Mormon," "Avenue Q"), and an original score by Christophe Beck ("The Muppets," Oscar®-winning short "Paperman"), "Frozen" opened in theaters nationwide on Nov. 27, 2013. Accompanying "Frozen" is Walt Disney Animation Studios' "Get A Horse!" With Walt Disney himself as the voice of Mickey Mouse, the all-new short features Mickey, his favorite gal pal Minnie Mouse and their friends Horace Horsecollar and Clarabelle Cow as they delight in a musical haywagon ride. For more information, check out Disney.com/Frozen, like us on Facebook: facebook.com/DisneyFrozen and follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/DisneyAnimation.
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"Full Tilt", Red Grouse Moor
Aquila Art
Red Grouse flying at speed over a shooting butt, on Barningham Grouse Moor. A view as a driven grouse shooter would see.
Full Tilt, Red Grouse Moor Print No. 733
1. UNFRAMED CANVAS PRINTS Canvas print with a protective matt laminate. All dimensions given are approximate, it is recommended that you do not order a frame until you have received your print.
*UK & Ireland delivery Addresses: Supplied bonded to a 3mm board-backing ready for traditional framing.
*Non-UK Delivery Addresses: Supplied unstretched and packaged rolled in a postal tube ready for framing.
2. FRAMED PRINTS (*Only suitable for UK shipping) Board-backed print on canvas. The print surface is protected with a satin varnish and presented in a frame without glass so that they look like an original oil.
Reproduced from an original oil painting by bird artist Martin Ridley. Frames have been individually selected to compliment the artwork and the printing has been sourced to show off the images at their best.


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Collection: August 2021
Designer: Kaffe Fassett Collective
Size: 18″ x 21″
Fabric Quantity: 8
Out of stock
International Shipping are estimates only. You will be contacted if the cost to ship is considerably higher. Please contact us for estimates.
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