Carlina + Carolina (for Carolina or Carlina)

I've blogged about Loudon Wainwright III before, but seeeing as how today is the old chap's birthday, here's another shout-out to someone I consider to be one of the finest singer-songwriters in the country. Wainwright was born on September 5, 1946, in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. His mother was a yoga instructor and his dad worked as a writer and editor for Life magazine. Wainwright the elder also played piano and enjoyed writing songs. Loudon followed in his father's footsteps and learned how to play guitar, but after moving to San Francisco in his early twenties, he sold his instrument in order to afford yoga lessons. Nice tribute to his meditative mom, but Loudon's true calling was louder. While working in a boatyard in Rhode Island, an old lobsterman inspired his very first song, "Edgar." Soon after that, Wainwright bought another guitar and wrote almost twenty songs in less than a year. Since that time, he has scarcely let up, with 25 or so albums currently to his name. Here's wishing a very happy birthday to North Carolina's native son, along with a poignant farewell to summer, a season best summed up by one of my favorite Loudon Wainwright tunes, "The Swimming Song": This summer I went swimming / This summer I might have drowned / But I held my breath and I kicked my feet / And I moved my arms around / Moved my arms around... I held my breath and I kicked my feet and I found ten cases of today's combination typo in OhioLINK, along with 103 in WorldCat.

(Swimmer at Carolina Beach, North Carolina, 14 July 2012, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Wainright (for Wainwright)

I saw Loudon Wainwright III in concert last weekend for the umpteenth time. This time he was with his old pal Richard Thompson of former Fairport Convention fame: the tour was aptly dubbed "Rich and Loud." To the younger set of Wainwright watchers, Loudon is Rufus's dad. But if you're talkin' 'bout my generation, Rufus is Loudon's kid. (In fact, I remember a reduced Rufus in the 1970s, toddling around the stage with his baby sister Martha during a McGarrigles concert in Saratoga, New York.) Although Loudon, at age 63, is clean-shaven and close-cropped, back in his "Dead Skunk" days he hippied it up with the best of them. Wainright appears 58 times in OhioLINK, but not all are misspellings. Wainwright + Wainright shows up ten times. We also get five hits on Loudon Wainright and two on Rufus Wainright. Loudon's father was a columnist and editor for Life magazine, so I'm sure he'd appreciate our efforts at improving access to the work of his talented son and grandson by making sure our records have their names spelled right—or rather, wright.

(Picture of Loudon playing an outdoor concert, year unknown, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Candian, Candians (for Canadian*)

Kate McGarrigle, half of the dulcet-toned Canadian folk duo often known as "The McGarrigle Sisters," died this week after battling a rare form of cancer for several years. Anna McGarrigle wrote on the family blog: "Sadly our sweet Kate had to leave us last night. She departed in a haze of song and love surrounded by family and good friends. She is irreplaceable and we are broken-hearted. Til we meet again, dear sister." Kate and Anna (along with their sister Jane) grew up in St.-Sauveur-des-Monts, Quebec, where they learned French and English songs from their parents, and piano from the local nuns. Kate was married at one time to Loudon Wainwright III and was the mother of musicians Rufus and Martha Wainwright. She leaves behind grieving fans the world over, but her spirit and art will surely survive. I'm not sure if I was at this particular concert or not, but I did have the pleasure of hearing the McGarrigles play at Caffe Lena and many other venues back in the day. Adieu, Kate, may God bless you and keep you. Thanks for the music and the memories. (Candian was found 24 times in OhioLINK, although a few of those were personal names, and Candians once.)

(Kate McGarrigle at the Ottawa Bluesfest, July 13, 2008, courtesy of Flickr.)

Carol Reid

Ducth (for Dutch)

Yesterday's post talked about Loudon Wainwright III, folk singer and son of Loudon Wainwright Jr., who was a writer and editor for Life magazine. Another interesting note about Loudon's lineage is the fact that he is a direct descendant of Peter Stuyvesant, the last director-general of New Netherland (which included present-day New York State). Albany, New York—formerly known as Fort Orange—recently hosted Willem-Alexander (Prince of Orange and son of Queen Beatrix) and his Argentinian wife Princess Máxima, in celebration of the quadricentennial of Henry Hudson's voyage up the Hudson River in 1609. Museums all over the state have mounted exhibits in commemoration of this historic event. Two such local exhibitions are the one at the New York State Museum and the one at the Albany Institute of History and Art. Ducth (for Dutch) turns up five times in OhioLINK, two of them with "[sic]" in tow. (The prince and princess also have three little towheads, who were left at home in the Netherlands this trip.)

(1948 Associated Press photo from a friend who deals in old books and ephemera, picturing three generations of Dutch royalty: Princess Margriet, Princess Beatrix, Princess Juliana, and Queen Wilhelmina... Postscript: a loyal TotDfL subject is happy to see that we've got all our "Ducth" in a row here!)

Carol Reid

September 25, 2007 - Angus Dei, Agnes Dei

According to Wikipedia, "Agnus Dei is a Latin term meaning Lamb of God, and was originally used to refer to Jesus Christ in his role of the perfect sacrificial offering…" But there's no reason to believe the Creator intended an invidious comparison to any other critter. Some vegetarians, in fact, might find today's typo even more apt to their purposes, since the Black Angus (a Scottish breed of cattle) is the most commonly sacrificed animal for meat in the United States. Loudon Wainwright III once told the New York Times that he was irritated by people who spelled his name wrong and I expect his son Rufus would likewise raise a fuss at the misspelling of his song "Agnus Dei." There are 20 records containing the typo Angus Dei in OhioLINK and six for the equally humorous Agnes Dei. (Illustration from the 1930 children's book Angus and the Ducks by Marjorie Flack.)

Carol Reid

Meduim* (for Medium*)

We made it up to Los Angeles on our last day of vacation and were able to squeeze in a trip to the renowned J. Paul Getty Museum. The Getty is truly immense and contains all manner of amazing art. In addition to lingering over "Woven Gold: Tapestries of Louis XIV," and rooms full of Impressionist art, among many other treaures (I spotted "Clara the Rhinoceros" briefly in an orientation video, but was unable to locate her later on), we were excited to find ourselves there for "The Perfect Medium," a celebration of the work of photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. Along with all the portraits of people and flowers, there was also a discreet corner devoted to the "X Portfolio," a series of graphic S & M images of gay men in NYC circa 1970. Mapplethorpe had come under attack for such images during the senatorial reign of Jesse Helms and the controversy surrounding government funding of the NEA. Or what we "intellectual freedom" types were simply inclined to call Art Censorship. (One of my favorite Loudon Wainwright songs states, "If Jesse don't like it, it's probably not art, Jesse knows what's good, oh, Jesse is smart.") The Getty's smart and expansive array of Mapplethorpe's work was accompanied by an equally fascinating exhibit from the collection of his life partner, and patron of his art, Sam Wagstaff. "The Perfect Medium" was the perfect end to a perfect week out west. Meduim* is a typo of "low probability" on the Ballard list, found four times in OhioLINK, and 107 times in WorldCat.

(Visitor looking at iconic Patti Smith portrait, taken at the Mapplethorpe exhibit, Getty Museum, April 27, 2016.)

Carol Reid

Licenc* + Licens* (for Licens* or Licenc*)

Once when I was little, I saw the expression "poetic license" and asked my mother what it meant. I think I thought it was some sort of literal license they gave to poets. Her answer, though somewhat vague, turned out to be much more intriguing. She said it meant that you could say whatever you wanted to say, however you wanted to say it. I was too young to know very much yet about democracy and the First Amendment, but as I got older, this concept blended nicely with another one I came to fully embrace: "freedom of speech." The summer before I began library school, I signed up for a seminar in censorship. Though they had to cancel it as only a few students had shown up, the dean treated us to a full three hours of thrilling talk about "banned books" and "intellectual freedom." If I hadn't been quite sure of my new choice of vocation before, that clinched it for me. In the Loudon Wainwright song "Jesse Don't Like It" (from the 1999 album Social Studies), he sings: "In the kindergarten, years ago, Jesse got rude / He took a red Crayola and he drew a nude / The teacher took a ruler to Jesse's behind / She beat his butt, but she ruled his mind..." I love Loudon's use of poetic license—the alliteration and assonance and internal ryhming, the repetition of words and homonyms. And, of course, I love his hilarious taking down of Jesse Helms, that one-time enemy of the arts and, specifically, the NEA. Today's typo garners 161 hits in OhioLINK, not all of which are actually typos. Americans spell license with an S, but the British, Canadian, and Australian spelling uses a C. If you do a combined search on both spellings, you will surely find some inconsistencies; however, you'll want to make sure to check the works themselves to determine any errors in transcription or instances where a "sic" or "i.e." is called for.

(Jesse Helms, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid