My desktop crashed - I think for the last time - and so my online access is limited. We'll have to see.
Meanwhile, to answer some questions posted in the comments section:
Here's a link to those official coroner and government reports on the Holly crash. The gravestone shots are from the web; I haven't had a chance to visit them all, and of the bunch I'll probably only make the trip for Buddy, to be honest.
I am working. That seasonal job, to my great surprise, liked me and kept me on. The hours aren't great, given the economy, but it is a nice sign that while shifts are cut left and right I'm in the mix at all. A search for a job equal (in pay) to my old one continue with new daily vigor, but as you all know from 4+ years here I don't care to discuss my job online.
What else . . well I fell twice in recent days. Once on ice while picking LuLu up from school, and once down the stairs at the house. Mark my words, if we live here forty years those stairs will eventually seal my doom. And in case you're wondering, no matter how minor the fall, 350# does not defy gravity without paying a dire price, in this case some bruises and a cut across my butt.
I'm now DVR'ing this season of American Idol. Expect weekly posts about that, and remember to check out the TWO MILWAUKEE CONTESTANTS. Danny - the guy who lost his wife - and his buddy are both from this here town. Lisa thinks she knows Danny from somewhere, and said so before we even knew he was from Milwaukee. Who knows? Maye we know the next American Idol!
While we're talking TV, I mentioned this on Beth's site, but for the record: the episode of The Office that aired after the SuperBowl was hilarious, and I wet myself twice watching it. Classic.
And that SuperBowl MVP is B.S. Yeah, Holmes made that final catch. Whoo-hoo. It should have gone to Harrison for his 100 yard interception return. That's a minimum of a ten point swingaround (denying Arizona at least three points and gaining seven) in a game decided by four points. Hellllllooooo?
[Duke-Clemson was a slaughter. A 27 point loss for Coach K? Ugh. Sad to watch for this part-time, casual Blue Devil fan]
Ok, that's all for now. I hope to write again soon.
Published writer, compulsive reader, Old School Whovian, Match Game enthusiast, NKOTB fan, data hoarder, and - surprisingly, given that list - married with four kids. Welcome to my take on life, fatherhood, entertainment, and whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Buddy discusses the dangers of flying
In 1958 Buddy did a very short interview with Alan Freed. Freed was a huge name in rock at the time, a DJ who did more to promote the music than just about anyone else. His fame was cut short when he was implicated in the payola scandals of the late '50's (DJ's were accepting bribes to play a record and act as if it was aired as part of a normal rotation. This would make the record appear more popular then it was, building a false momentum on the charts which in theory fed real interest. They can legally accept money for such acts, but it must be disclosed to the public )
Dick Clark was nearly undone by Payola too, but survived by selling his stake in a record company and 'co-operating' with the authorites.
Freed and Holly appear to be on very friendly terms and discuss some misadventures they've had while flying to gigs and joke about the dangers involved. In retrospect it seems an eerie foretelling, but let's get real; you and I could joke today about the dangers of driving on the highway, but if you (not me Mister) die on I-70 tomorrow we were no more psychic than you were lucky.
Dick Clark was nearly undone by Payola too, but survived by selling his stake in a record company and 'co-operating' with the authorites.
Freed and Holly appear to be on very friendly terms and discuss some misadventures they've had while flying to gigs and joke about the dangers involved. In retrospect it seems an eerie foretelling, but let's get real; you and I could joke today about the dangers of driving on the highway, but if you (not me Mister) die on I-70 tomorrow we were no more psychic than you were lucky.
Vancouver Interview - October 23, 1957
Some interesting points from this short interview in late 1957. One, Buddy is asked how long he thinks the genre of rock 'n roll will last. His answer? Only about six or seven more months. He is asked if he'd quit if that was the case or ride the next big thing, and he cheerfully responds that he'd change his style. As an explanation, he says he prefers quiter music anyway. He also states a preference for 'Oh Boy!' (about to be released at the time of the interview) over 'That'll Be the Day'.
Some people have said that Buddy misunderstood the question about rock 'n roll, but I disagree. The answer as it stands was consistent with the question and he doesn't seem confused. Maybe he was having a 'down' day, maybe he was in a bad mood, maybe he really feared for the future of rock 'n roll. Who knows?
As far as the preference for 'Oh Boy!', it may be true or it may just be a case of selling the latest release to the press.
I also think his preference for quieter music is not, necessarily, an indicator that Buddy would have abandoned rock had he lived.
Some people have said that Buddy misunderstood the question about rock 'n roll, but I disagree. The answer as it stands was consistent with the question and he doesn't seem confused. Maybe he was having a 'down' day, maybe he was in a bad mood, maybe he really feared for the future of rock 'n roll. Who knows?
As far as the preference for 'Oh Boy!', it may be true or it may just be a case of selling the latest release to the press.
I also think his preference for quieter music is not, necessarily, an indicator that Buddy would have abandoned rock had he lived.
My Autobiography by Buddy Holly
This is the complete text of an assignment Holly wrote for his sophomore English course in the spring of 1953. He was 17 (?) at the time, which seems a bit old for a sophomore. Then again he writes of starting school at age seven, which itself is a little long in the tooth for the here-and-now.
Note Buddy's snarkiness and self-deprecating humor. That fits in nicely in 2009 but I doubt they were standard or appreciated qualities in the 1950's.
I also love the last line "that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it"
* * * *
I was born one fall day, a certain particular one, because it was Sept. 7, 1936 and school for that year was starting. It also the first Monday of the month and Dollar Day, and also Labor Day, so you see, it was very eventful in more ways than one. Mr. and Mrs. L.O. Holley were the happy parents of this bouncing, baby boy, or so I'm told, because I was a little young then to be remembering it now.
My life has been what you might call an uneventful one, and it seems there is not much of interest to tell. I was born here in Lubbock and except for a year and a half when I moved to the Roosevelt School District, I have lived here all my life so far. I don't remember too much of this period of my life up until the time I started to go to school at Roscoe Wilson when I was seven. Since then I remember most of the more important events of my school days.
It was during the 4th grade that I moved to Roosevelt and continued to school there until I finished the 6th grade. I then moved back to the Lubbock School Dist. and started to Junior High School at J.T. HUTCHINSON. It was great to be back among my old grade school friends and everything clicked right off. It was really a joy to me to become a westerner of Lubbock Senior High School.
Little did I know what the last nine weeks of my sophomore year held in store for me. This will make the second time I have given my English theme for my test; I got kicked out of Plane Geometry class in the last week of school; I am behind with my Biology work and will probably fail every course I'm taking. At least that's the way I feel. But why quit there? I may as well go ahead and tell all. My father's out of town on a fishing trip, and he is really going to be proud of my latest accomplishments when he gets back.
As of now, I have these on the list.
When I was driving our pickup Sunday afternoon against a hard wind, the hood came unfastened and blew up and now it's bent so that it won't fasten down good. Before I got home, I stopped at a boy's house and he knocked a baseball in to the front glass, shattering it all over me. As if that wasn't enough, I had n appointment to apply for a job with a drafting firm yesterday afternoon and when my mother came after me, she let me drive on towards town. I had brought a picture of the choir and she was looking at it. She asked where I was, and I pointed to my picture. Just as I looked back up we hit the back of a Chrysler and tore the front end of our car up. So you see, I hope my father gets to catching so many fish that he will forget to come back for a little while.
Well, that's enough of bad things for a while. I have many hobbies. Some of these are hunting, fishing, leatherwork, reading, painting and playing western music. I have thought about making a carer out of western music if I am good enough but I will just have to wait to see how that turns out. I like drafting and have thought a lot about making it my life's owrk, but I guess everything will just have to wait and turn out for the best.
Well, that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it.
FINIS
FINALE
In other words,
THE END
Thanks to Lisa for typing in the copy!
Note Buddy's snarkiness and self-deprecating humor. That fits in nicely in 2009 but I doubt they were standard or appreciated qualities in the 1950's.
I also love the last line "that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it"
* * * *
I was born one fall day, a certain particular one, because it was Sept. 7, 1936 and school for that year was starting. It also the first Monday of the month and Dollar Day, and also Labor Day, so you see, it was very eventful in more ways than one. Mr. and Mrs. L.O. Holley were the happy parents of this bouncing, baby boy, or so I'm told, because I was a little young then to be remembering it now.
My life has been what you might call an uneventful one, and it seems there is not much of interest to tell. I was born here in Lubbock and except for a year and a half when I moved to the Roosevelt School District, I have lived here all my life so far. I don't remember too much of this period of my life up until the time I started to go to school at Roscoe Wilson when I was seven. Since then I remember most of the more important events of my school days.
It was during the 4th grade that I moved to Roosevelt and continued to school there until I finished the 6th grade. I then moved back to the Lubbock School Dist. and started to Junior High School at J.T. HUTCHINSON. It was great to be back among my old grade school friends and everything clicked right off. It was really a joy to me to become a westerner of Lubbock Senior High School.
Little did I know what the last nine weeks of my sophomore year held in store for me. This will make the second time I have given my English theme for my test; I got kicked out of Plane Geometry class in the last week of school; I am behind with my Biology work and will probably fail every course I'm taking. At least that's the way I feel. But why quit there? I may as well go ahead and tell all. My father's out of town on a fishing trip, and he is really going to be proud of my latest accomplishments when he gets back.
As of now, I have these on the list.
When I was driving our pickup Sunday afternoon against a hard wind, the hood came unfastened and blew up and now it's bent so that it won't fasten down good. Before I got home, I stopped at a boy's house and he knocked a baseball in to the front glass, shattering it all over me. As if that wasn't enough, I had n appointment to apply for a job with a drafting firm yesterday afternoon and when my mother came after me, she let me drive on towards town. I had brought a picture of the choir and she was looking at it. She asked where I was, and I pointed to my picture. Just as I looked back up we hit the back of a Chrysler and tore the front end of our car up. So you see, I hope my father gets to catching so many fish that he will forget to come back for a little while.
Well, that's enough of bad things for a while. I have many hobbies. Some of these are hunting, fishing, leatherwork, reading, painting and playing western music. I have thought about making a carer out of western music if I am good enough but I will just have to wait to see how that turns out. I like drafting and have thought a lot about making it my life's owrk, but I guess everything will just have to wait and turn out for the best.
Well, that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it.
FINIS
FINALE
In other words,
THE END
Thanks to Lisa for typing in the copy!
A phone call from Feb 28th, 1957
Here's a grand piece of history. In 1956 The Crickets were signed by Decca Records. Buddy clashed with the producers, who wanted to pigeonhole the group into a country-western sound. Without any fanfare the company refused to renew their contract, and on the last day of February 1957 Buddy placed this call to Paul Cohen of Decca.
A few things to note while listening: Buddy's obviously being given the run-around here. But throughout the six minute call he buries his temper and keeps his cool. He displays a very civil and courteous attitude, even when Cohen tactlessly tells him that if another record company wants to 'waste their money' on him, that was their problem.
Later that year Buddy was signed to another label willing to 'waste their money' on him. The Crickets released 'That'll Be the Day' and he was on his way to superstardom.
A few things to note while listening: Buddy's obviously being given the run-around here. But throughout the six minute call he buries his temper and keeps his cool. He displays a very civil and courteous attitude, even when Cohen tactlessly tells him that if another record company wants to 'waste their money' on him, that was their problem.
Later that year Buddy was signed to another label willing to 'waste their money' on him. The Crickets released 'That'll Be the Day' and he was on his way to superstardom.
'Two Timin' Woman' - by (a 13 year old) Buddy Holly
Here's a rare song by a twelve or thirteen year old Charles Hardin Holley, later better known as Buddy Holly. It was recorded in their family home at 3315 36th Street in Lubbock, Texas sometime in 1949. His voice at the time hadn't changed yet, and the vocals can be mistaken for those of a girl.
His guitar playing is far from childish though; check out the solo between 1:09 and 1:30 in the song.
(The video says he's 13 or 14 at the time, but I've double checked the recording date, and he was born 09/07/36, putting him at 12 or 13 here. )
His guitar playing is far from childish though; check out the solo between 1:09 and 1:30 in the song.
(The video says he's 13 or 14 at the time, but I've double checked the recording date, and he was born 09/07/36, putting him at 12 or 13 here. )
Fair Warning: Today will be all Buddy Holly on Slapinions
At 1:05 in the morning today, a crowd of fans stood on the Holly crash site - still a working farm field - and sang American Pie.
At the same time in Milwaukee, in an equally corny move, yours truly put on my coat and stepped onto my front porch. I raised a drink to the northwest sky, took a pull, and then poured a little to the ground. I said a quick prayer, wished their spirits well, and darted inside.
Yes, it was silly. Sue me.
I watched some of the events online from the Surf Ballroom, and I was mighty nervous when word came that the rumor mill said Clapton, Springsteen, Dylan, or McCartney would show. It would've been hard to swallow missing them, but in the end it was just empty rumor. Plenty of name acts showed, but no upper-tier superstars.
If you have a mind to, check out the Des Moines Register's spectacular barrage of coverage of the anniversary. There are interviews with personalities related to the crash, video of the event, official documents related to the crash, dowloadable posters, music and more. It is MIGHTY impressive.
I learned several things I hadn't known. Plane owner Jerry Dwyer was sued for 1.5 million (a huge sum in 1959) by Ritchie Valens mom but won the case. In fear of future lawsuits he kept the wreckage, and he still has the plane in storage somewhere. My God what a coup for a museum if he'd ever release it!
Dwyer came off as a bit of a conspiracy nut in his interview. He wouldn't discuss some things, mentioned cryptic 'truths' he knows but won't tell, etc. I get the impression that even 50 years later he's still trying to absolve his conscience. I can only assume the 'truth' he hinted at is the ridiculous notion that the pilot was shot in a scuffle aboard the plane. It's been refuted a million times, but America loves a conspiracy.
Sadly the Big Bopper's son, who wasn't born until two months after the crash, bought into some of those rumours and had his father exhumed two years ago. There's a very thorough article on the Des Moines site by the forensic scientist who did the deed. The Bopper was not shot, nor did he try to crawl away to safety. His body structure was destroyed by the impact, a fact hidden by what the article's author called stunning work by the undertaker. His face and haircut were instantly recognizable even after 48 years in the ground - this despite the fact that there were no bones left to hold up the face. He was given a new casket and reburied.
Get this: despite the fact that the original coffin carried an odor so bad the funeral home would not allow it inside during the exhumation, the casket is being PUT UP FOR SALE ON EBAY by the Bopper's son. I . . don't understand the thought process behind that.
The coroner's reports on the bodies revealed some gruesome truths, including massive damage to Valen's head. I won't go into it here, but all the reports are fascinating reading.
They've finally gotten around to putting a maker at the crash site honoring the pilot. About time.
Something I did know but had forgotten: Waylong Jennings last words to Buddy after the concert was a mocking 'Well I hope your old plane crashes'. Those words, spoken innocently, would haunt Jennings for years and escalate his addictions.
Anyway, check out the site, and be prepared for a slew of music posts here today.
Rave on!
At the same time in Milwaukee, in an equally corny move, yours truly put on my coat and stepped onto my front porch. I raised a drink to the northwest sky, took a pull, and then poured a little to the ground. I said a quick prayer, wished their spirits well, and darted inside.
Yes, it was silly. Sue me.
I watched some of the events online from the Surf Ballroom, and I was mighty nervous when word came that the rumor mill said Clapton, Springsteen, Dylan, or McCartney would show. It would've been hard to swallow missing them, but in the end it was just empty rumor. Plenty of name acts showed, but no upper-tier superstars.
If you have a mind to, check out the Des Moines Register's spectacular barrage of coverage of the anniversary. There are interviews with personalities related to the crash, video of the event, official documents related to the crash, dowloadable posters, music and more. It is MIGHTY impressive.
I learned several things I hadn't known. Plane owner Jerry Dwyer was sued for 1.5 million (a huge sum in 1959) by Ritchie Valens mom but won the case. In fear of future lawsuits he kept the wreckage, and he still has the plane in storage somewhere. My God what a coup for a museum if he'd ever release it!
Dwyer came off as a bit of a conspiracy nut in his interview. He wouldn't discuss some things, mentioned cryptic 'truths' he knows but won't tell, etc. I get the impression that even 50 years later he's still trying to absolve his conscience. I can only assume the 'truth' he hinted at is the ridiculous notion that the pilot was shot in a scuffle aboard the plane. It's been refuted a million times, but America loves a conspiracy.
Sadly the Big Bopper's son, who wasn't born until two months after the crash, bought into some of those rumours and had his father exhumed two years ago. There's a very thorough article on the Des Moines site by the forensic scientist who did the deed. The Bopper was not shot, nor did he try to crawl away to safety. His body structure was destroyed by the impact, a fact hidden by what the article's author called stunning work by the undertaker. His face and haircut were instantly recognizable even after 48 years in the ground - this despite the fact that there were no bones left to hold up the face. He was given a new casket and reburied.
Get this: despite the fact that the original coffin carried an odor so bad the funeral home would not allow it inside during the exhumation, the casket is being PUT UP FOR SALE ON EBAY by the Bopper's son. I . . don't understand the thought process behind that.
The coroner's reports on the bodies revealed some gruesome truths, including massive damage to Valen's head. I won't go into it here, but all the reports are fascinating reading.
They've finally gotten around to putting a maker at the crash site honoring the pilot. About time.
Something I did know but had forgotten: Waylong Jennings last words to Buddy after the concert was a mocking 'Well I hope your old plane crashes'. Those words, spoken innocently, would haunt Jennings for years and escalate his addictions.
Anyway, check out the site, and be prepared for a slew of music posts here today.
Rave on!
Remember
A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they'd be happy for a while.
But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn't take one more step.
I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
- American Pie by Don McLean.
At around 1:05 AM on the morning of February 3rd, 1959 - fifty years ago nearly to the moment - a plane carrying four men crashed in a dark Iowa cornfield. No one saw or heard the crash, and it did not make front page news in many cities. I doubt anyone at the time, even the families involved, realized that people fifty years later would mourn the losses of that day.
CHARLES HARDIN HOLLEY, AKA BUDDY HOLLY, AGE 22
RICHARD STEVEN VALENZUELA AKA RITCHIE VALENS, AGE 17
J.P. RICHARDSON, AKA THE BIG BOPPER, AGE 28
(PILOT) ROGER PETERSON, AGE 21
Rest in peace gentlemen. Your music lives on.
Monday, February 2, 2009
50 Winters Later in Clear Lake Iowa
It was probably a bad time to pick a fight with Springsteen fans, coming as it does on the eve of a slew of Buddy Holly posts. I still say 'relevant today' is a vastly different beast than 'influential'.
Enough of that tho'. For what it's worth, I wouldn't choose (a living) Buddy to do the halftime show either, and Springsteen is a Holly fan, which means he has some good qualities ;) Says the Boss: "I play Buddy Holly every night before I go on. It keeps me honest!"
I should be in Iowa right now, preparing to celebrate the event with a massive tribute concert at the Surf Ballroom, where Ritchie Valens, the Big Bopper, and Buddy played their last concert.
I have tickets, rather pricy ones at that, but given my current financial climate I just couldn't pull the trigger on the trip. [My efforts to resell them fell short]. I'd been hoping for a bigger paycheck to make up the difference, but it came a week too late. There were many 'wounded in action' items after my lay-off; this is the first confirmed KIA.
Scheduled to appear at the concert:
Tommy Allsup
Big Bopper JR
The Crickets
Pat DiNizio of the Smithereens
Joe Ely
Wanda Jackson
Los Lobos
Los Lonely Boys
Delbert McClinton
Chris Montez
Cousin Brucie Morrow
Graham Nash
Peter & Gordon
Sir Tim Rice
Bobby Vee
I'm trying to look on the bright side. I'm not out a few hundred, I'm saving a few hundred by not tacking on the cost of the trip. Yeah, that's it. I'm saving money.
Besides, the Escort is down with an unknown engine problem, and with the van as our only vehicle I don't care to risk it on a 12 hour rountrip to Iowa in the middle of winter. What if it breaks down? What if it has a flat? I can't afford those repairs on top of the gas/wear and tear/food/lodging.
Fuggetaboutit.
So . . .a few tears, some Buddy playing on the computer, and some plans of a summer trip to Clear Lake brewing in my head.
[sidenote: right now I'm listening to the guitar solo on Buddy's version of Chuck Berry's Brown Eyed Handsome Man. It is a thing of beauty.]
Lost: Season 5, Episode 2: 'Jughead'
Thanks for signing up Sarah. Cute pic :) Now get your sister to join :)
* * * *
A reader asked me this week if there's been a season or two of Lost that I didn't like. I have my favorites sure, but the answer is 'no'. Some seasons are more cerebral and mysterious, while some are action-oriented and designed to move the story arc forward. Overall, it's been a pleasant mix of the two.
As far as this season goes, I'm not overjoyed but for now, still thoroughly entertained. I will say this: I find it very awkward that the show has abandoned its trademark and highly effective format. You know what I'm talking about; the events of the 'present', intercut with flashbacks to the the character's past that explain their current actions and [hopefully]deepen our attachment to them. This season it's pgone. Oh, they still jump around in time, but now it's just a plain jane attempt to track the ridiculous 'time travel' storyline.
This week, in the real world, Desmond and Penny have a son. Three years later he 'remembers' Daniel's plea and sets out to find Farraday's mother. I have a theory on this: the memory did not exist until that moment, which I imagine coincides with Daniel venturing back in time to make the request. That's absolute bunk of course. If he changed the past then it immediately becomes part of Desmond's continuity, and he should have retained the memory through the whole shebang. Heck, it should also have a) proven to him that the 'plague' was a lie, since Daniel was seen sans hazmat suit and b) helped him retain his sanity as he knows there will be a time when he is off the island again.
Anyhow, he wanders around and finds Daniel's lab dismantled and Farraday held in contempt for his experiments, which have apparently incapacitated a woman (she actually appears to have the time travel sickness seen both last season and with Charlotte this year). Cue a meeting with Widmore and a parting shot where it's evident he and Penny are off to LA to find Daniel's mother. Uh, here's my two cents. Widmore gave you her address. Your wife is being hunted by Ben and his coherts, who have a reach wider than the Atlantic. Howsabout you skip the trip and just mail her a certified letter?
On the island it's revealed that 'here' in the early '50's a US Army expedition is exterminated. Their mission was to use the island for nuclear testing, and they left a bomb - the Jughead of the episode title - behind.
The Losties are mistaken for a US Army rescue party, and, skipping over a few things here, John gets his rather unproductive discussion with Richard Alpert.
A couple things of note: the US Army does not just willy-nilly land on an island and blow it up. Therefore, at that time the island was visible and accessible, long enough for the US to chart it, select it for use, and deploy a team to utilize it. Moreoever the Others aren't surprised, since they expect a follw-up attack.
So what changed? Did the bomb serve as the source for all the energy on the island? What gives?
We learn a few other things. Daniel loves Charlotte. Big surprise. The a-hole Other is none other than a young Charles Widmore. Slightly bigger surpise.
Ellie, the blonde Other who holds Daniel at gunpoint, and seems to be an antagonist to Widmore?
Well, my money is that it's Dan's mother (note how he joked that she looked familiar) and that she is the mysterious white haired woman who guided Desmond in the past and who Ben seems to fear.
So sometime in the last fifty years Widmore and the Others had a falling out, with both Widmore and White Haired Lady assuming control of competing interests.
That's pretty much it for this week. Anything else to add folks?
* * * *
A reader asked me this week if there's been a season or two of Lost that I didn't like. I have my favorites sure, but the answer is 'no'. Some seasons are more cerebral and mysterious, while some are action-oriented and designed to move the story arc forward. Overall, it's been a pleasant mix of the two.
As far as this season goes, I'm not overjoyed but for now, still thoroughly entertained. I will say this: I find it very awkward that the show has abandoned its trademark and highly effective format. You know what I'm talking about; the events of the 'present', intercut with flashbacks to the the character's past that explain their current actions and [hopefully]deepen our attachment to them. This season it's pgone. Oh, they still jump around in time, but now it's just a plain jane attempt to track the ridiculous 'time travel' storyline.
This week, in the real world, Desmond and Penny have a son. Three years later he 'remembers' Daniel's plea and sets out to find Farraday's mother. I have a theory on this: the memory did not exist until that moment, which I imagine coincides with Daniel venturing back in time to make the request. That's absolute bunk of course. If he changed the past then it immediately becomes part of Desmond's continuity, and he should have retained the memory through the whole shebang. Heck, it should also have a) proven to him that the 'plague' was a lie, since Daniel was seen sans hazmat suit and b) helped him retain his sanity as he knows there will be a time when he is off the island again.
Anyhow, he wanders around and finds Daniel's lab dismantled and Farraday held in contempt for his experiments, which have apparently incapacitated a woman (she actually appears to have the time travel sickness seen both last season and with Charlotte this year). Cue a meeting with Widmore and a parting shot where it's evident he and Penny are off to LA to find Daniel's mother. Uh, here's my two cents. Widmore gave you her address. Your wife is being hunted by Ben and his coherts, who have a reach wider than the Atlantic. Howsabout you skip the trip and just mail her a certified letter?
On the island it's revealed that 'here' in the early '50's a US Army expedition is exterminated. Their mission was to use the island for nuclear testing, and they left a bomb - the Jughead of the episode title - behind.
The Losties are mistaken for a US Army rescue party, and, skipping over a few things here, John gets his rather unproductive discussion with Richard Alpert.
A couple things of note: the US Army does not just willy-nilly land on an island and blow it up. Therefore, at that time the island was visible and accessible, long enough for the US to chart it, select it for use, and deploy a team to utilize it. Moreoever the Others aren't surprised, since they expect a follw-up attack.
So what changed? Did the bomb serve as the source for all the energy on the island? What gives?
We learn a few other things. Daniel loves Charlotte. Big surprise. The a-hole Other is none other than a young Charles Widmore. Slightly bigger surpise.
Ellie, the blonde Other who holds Daniel at gunpoint, and seems to be an antagonist to Widmore?
Well, my money is that it's Dan's mother (note how he joked that she looked familiar) and that she is the mysterious white haired woman who guided Desmond in the past and who Ben seems to fear.
So sometime in the last fifty years Widmore and the Others had a falling out, with both Widmore and White Haired Lady assuming control of competing interests.
That's pretty much it for this week. Anything else to add folks?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)