Camelot

I got a cat!

He was adopted from Philly PAWS, a no-kill rescue in the city. I’d been trying for months to adopt but had little success—that is, until I met Sunny. That’s what the shelter called him, and it’s a cute name! He’s quite sweet, loves people, and, well, is very orange. It wasn’t his name, though. I spent the first day with him trying to get him to tell me what he wanted to be called. I brainstormed with my sister and her partner for most of the day trying to find something that would capture his good nature.

So, meet King Arthur! Named chiefly after King Arthur Baking, because he can make knead so well it could put human bakers to shame. His other namesake, which probably doesn’t need an explanation, has turned my home into his personal Camelot.

One of the things I lost in the fire that I miss the most is my record player. I’d inherited it from my grandma when she died, along with a little secretary desk and its matching chair. I was using the desk as a computer desk, even though the setup was wildly uncomfortable. I actually had bought a new desk to replace the cheap Target one in my room that was in transit when the fire happened. That’s another story.

I’ve been thinking about my grandma, and the fire, a lot in the past few days. Loss is a difficult thing to get over, apparently. Although my grandmother passed several years ago, I still find myself thinking about her and reminiscing on the moments we spent together when I was a kid. I stumbled upon a recipe (on King Arthur’s website, naturally) for pineapple upside-down cake, which was something that I made with my grandma a few times when I visited her. I haven’t had it in years, but I still remember how it tastes. The cake itself is moist and dense thanks to the sauce that forms in the bottom (which becomes the top) of the skillet, and the pineapple and cherries become soft and sweet. I want to give pineapple upside-down cake a shot, once I find a good replacement for my cast-iron pan. It won’t be the same, of course, but it’ll be a little bit of comfort from the past.

When I finally was able to bring my inheritances to Southern Oregon, as I was finally in an apartment big enough, I got straight to work finding records. I spent the better part of an afternoon setting up the turntable, tuner, and speakers. My tester record, so I knew I put everything together right, was a modern reprint of David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust. When everything was said and done and I’d overcome all my frustrations getting everything it its proper channels, I sat in the middle of my living room, squarely between the speakers, and let “Five Years” wash over me.

I was very selective with which records were allowed in my collection. My rule was I would only pick up albums I would actually listen to. Somehow I ended up with three different versions of the musical Camelot. The Broadway and movie versions were joined by an interesting instrumental version I found at Goodwill that I most likely came home with because it was cheap and it was a musical I kinda-sorta knew. I’ll confess I listened to the instrumental version maybe twice, and the Broadway version once. I’m most familiar with the movie version, with Richard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave. It struck me, in listening to the two back-to-back, how lethargic the movie version sounds compared to the Broadway version. Perhaps it’s just a property of stage performance, as movies can allow for the kind of nuance that the stage simply cannot. Does there need to be nuance in an adaptation of a stage play that was crafted for a medium that doesn’t allow for it? What does it mean to have “nuance” anyway? It’s an interesting question to ponder, particularly when examining musical movies from the 1960’s and 70’s. Fiddler on the Roof, perhaps one of my favorite musicals of all time, has a lovely movie version that delivers a great deal of emotional “nuance.” I would argue that the musical itself has plenty of nuance in and of itself.

As much as I’d like to keep gazing at my navel, this post has gotten entirely out of hand. Perhaps I’ll revisit this topic at a later date. The entire point of this post, to sum:

1) I got a cat!

2) His name is King Arthur

3) Because my brain is centered around music, I’ve had the soundtrack to Camelot stuck in my head all week

I’ll end this with the song I’ve been singing my King Arthur since the day he came home.