Cultural List - eracy, Part 1: Make Your Own List

CULTURAL LITERACY
~ ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS ~

Cultural Literacy:
What Every American Needs to Know

or better yet

The New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy:
What Every American Needs to Know

"Cultural literacy is not about elitism; it is about ensuring that every individual has the tools to navigate and contribute to our complex world. . . . the glue that holds a society together. . . . the only road to genuine equality and opportunity in our society."

Back in 1987, it was practically a party game -- like a round of Jeopardy! -- to thumb through Hirsch's massive alphabetical list, testing what we had learned and retained or what had been sadly omitted from our cultural education. When was Victoria queen (1837 - 1901), what was the span of Shakespeare's life (1564 - 1616), how about a priori and posteriori: that sort of thing.

Hirsch's project reminded me of T. S. Eliot's Notes Towards the Definition of Culture (1948), which I had been required to read and analyze as an undergraduate. The assignment (this was way back in pre - Google 1978) was to look up any of these items with which we were not already familiar:

"Culture includes all the characteristic activities and interests of a people: Derby Day, Henley Regatta, Cowes, the twelfth of August, a cup final, the dog races, the pin table, the dart board, Wensleydale cheese, boiled cabbage cut into sections, beetroot in vinegar, nineteenth-century Gothic churches and the music of Elgar. The reader can make his own list."

T. S. Eliot (1888 – 1965)

Eliot is skewing British here, but even in Missouri we knew about "Pomp and Circumstance," pickled beets, and boiled cabbage. Some of the others weren't as relevant to North American college kids, but that's okay, because, as Eliot himself concluded: "The reader can make his own list."

Happily, witty American composer Cole Porter had already done just that -- 14 years prior to Eliot's suggestion -- in his song from the 1934 musical Anything Goes. You're the Top is a light - hearted bit of fun, but it is also a short course in cultural literacy:

You're the Top

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best
Instead of getting 'em off my chest
To let 'em rest unexpressed
I hate parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar
But if this ditty is not so pretty
At least it'll tell you how great you are

You're the top
You're the Colosseum
You're the top
You're the Louvre Museum
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss
You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart sonnet
You're Mickey Mouse

You're the Nile
You're the Tow'r of Pisa
You're the smile
On the Mona Lisa
I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop
But if, baby, I'm the bottom
You're the top

You're the top
You're Mahatma Ghandi
You're the top
You're Napolean brandy
You're the purple light of a summer night in Spain
You're the National Gallery, You're Garbo's salary
You're cellophane

You're sublime
You're a turkey dinner
You're the time
Of the Derby winner
I'm a toy balloon that's fated soon to pop
But if, baby, I'm the bottom
You're the top

You're the top
You're an Arrow collar
You're the top
You're a Coolidge dollar
You're the nimble tread of the feet of Fred Astaire
You're an O'Neill drama, you're Whistler's mama
You're Camembert

You're a rose, You're Inferno's Dante
You're the nose on the great Durante
I'm just in the way as the French would say
"De trop"
But if, baby, I'm the bottom
You're the top

You're the top
You're a Waldorf salad
You're the top
You're a Berlin ballad
You're a baby grand of a lady and a gent
You're an old dutch master, you're Mrs. Aster
You're Pepsodent

You're romance
You're the steppes of Russia
You're the pants
On a Roxy usher
I'm a lazy lout that's just about to stop
But if baby, I'm the bottom
You're the top

Cole Porter (1891 - 1964)

Almost 40 years after Porter's hit, the classic country Statler Brothers had a 1972 hit with their nostalgic ode to growing up in the 1950s, filled with numerous references to the popular culture of the time:

Do You Remember These?

Saturday morning serials
Chapters one through fifteen
Fly paper, penny loafers, and Lucky Strike Green
Flat tops, sock hops, Studebaker, "Pepsi, please"
Ah, do you remember these?

Cigar bands on your hands
Your daddy's socks rolled down
Sticks, no plugs and aviator caps, with flaps that button down
Movie stars on Dixie cup tops and knickers to your knees
Ah, do you remember these?

The hit parade, grape truaide, the Sadie Hawkins dance
Peddle pushers, duck tail hair, and peggin' your pants
Howdy Doody, Tootie Fruitie, the seam up the back of her hose Ah, do you remember those?

James Dean, he was "keen", Sunday movies were taboo
The senior prom, Judy's mom, rock 'n roll was new
Cracker jack prize
Stars in your eyes
"ask daddy for the keys"
Ah, do you remember these?

The boogie man, lemonade stand and taking your tonsils out
Indian burn and wait your turn and four foul balls You're out!
Cigarette loads and secret codes and saving lucky stars
Can you remember back that far?

To boat neck shirts and fender skirts and crinoline petticoats
Mums the word and dirty bird and double root beer float
Moon hubcaps and loud heel taps and "he's a real gone cat"
Ah, do you remember that?

Dancing close, little moron jokes and "cooties" in her hair
Captain Midnight, ovaltine, and the whip at the county fair
Charles Atlas course, Roy Rogers horse, and "Only the Shadow Knows"
Ah, do you remember those?

Gables charms, "froggin" your arm, loud mufflers, pitching woo Going steady, Veronica and Betty, white bucks and blue suede shoes

Knock, knock jokes
Who's there?
Dewey
Dewey who?
Dewey
Remember these
Yes we do!
Oh do we?
Do we remember these!

Written by Don Reid, Harold Reid, and Larry Lee Favorite

In 1979, seven years after "Do You Remember These," along came "Reasons to Be Cheerful," from British musical artist Ian Drury. Drury's mostly optimistic, slightly sarcastic "shopping list" ranges from landmark achievements to any number of whimsical tidbits that add joy to the day:

Reasons to be Cheerful, Part 3

Why don't you get back into bed?
Reasons to be Cheerful, Part 3, 1, 2, 3

Summer, Buddy Holly, the working folly
Good golly, Miss Molly and boats
Hammersmith Palais, the Bolshoi Ballet
Jump back in the alley and nanny goats
Eighteen wheeler Scammells, Dominica camels
All other mammals plus equal votes
Seeing Piccadilly, Fanny Smith and Willie
Being rather silly and porridge oats

A bit of grin and bear it, a bit of come and share it
You're welcome we can spare it, yellow socks
Too short to be haughty, too nutty to be naughty
Going on forty no electric shocks
The juice of a carrot, the smile of a parrot
A little drop of claret, anything that rocks
Elvis and Scotty, the days when I ain't spotty
Sitting on a potty, curing smallpox

Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three
Reasons to be cheerful, part three

Health service glasses, gigolos and brasses
Round or skinny bottoms
Take your mum to Paris, lighting up a chalice
Wee Willie Harris
Bantu Steven Biko, listening to Rico
Harpo Groucho Chico
Cheddar cheese and pickle, a Vincent motorsickle
Slap and tickle

Woody Allen, Dali, Domitrie and Pascale
Balla, balla, balla and Volare
Something nice to study, phoning up a buddy
Being in my nuddy
Saying okey-dokey, sing-a-long a Smokie
Coming out of chokie
John Coltrane's soprano, Adie Celentano
Bonar Colleano

Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three
Yes, yes, dear, dear

Perhaps next year
Or maybe even now
In which case

Woody Allan, Dali, Domitrie and Pascale
Balla, balla, balla and Volare
Something nice to study, phoning up a buddy
Being in my nuddy
Saying okey-dokey, sing-a-long a Smokie
Coming out a chokie
John Coltrane's soprano, Adie Celentano
Bonar Colleano

Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, part three
Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three
I don't mind
I don't mind, don't mind, don't mind, don't mind

Sung by Ian Dury and the Blockheads
Written by Charles Jeremy Jankel, David Stanley Payne,
Ian Robins Dury, Stanley Payne David
See also Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick

In conclusion, not forgetting the Beat Poets,
with Ginsberg's 1955 compilation of
"the best minds of his generation,"
but even moreso Ferlinghetti's 1958
wishlist: "I Am Waiting."


MORE CULTURAL LISTS
Friday, June 28th
Cultural List- eracy, Part 2:
From Prime Time to Internet
Bo Burnham ~ Welcome to the Internet (2021)
Don McLean ~ Prime Time (1977)
Billy Joel ~ We Didn't Start the Fire (1989)

Sunday, July 14th
Cultural List-eracy, Part 3:
Master Class
Ted Lasso, Steven Colbert & James Taylor
Next Fortnightly Post
Friday, June 14, 2024

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT ~ Listing / Listening, Part 1
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogsppot.com

Anyplace Away From Here

LEAVING HOME
~ ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS ~

Three Little Pigs ~ Slide Show

“I saw in their eyes something I was to see over and over in every part of the nation -- a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from any Here. They spoke quietly of how they wanted to go someday, to move about, free and unanchored, not toward something but away from something. I saw this look and heard this yearning everywhere in every state I visited. Nearly every American hungers to move. . . . nearly all Americans move away, or want to” (10, emphasis added; 99).

~by John Steinbeck
~from Travels With Charley: In Search of America, 1962

~ Oil Field Girls (1940) ~
Jerry Bywaters
(1906 - 1989)

"Impossible, now, to live your life
in a single place, to call it home."
Del Marie Rogers
(1936 - 2022)

Home-Free

There’s no rhyme for how high the corn should be*
in September, but I can see it, and I’m telling you

it’s up to my chest, maybe even my neck—
it’s hard to tell from the road—and it’s brown,

and judging by the sibilance when the wind
rubs the husks together, it must feel like paper.

I didn’t see myself living among husks. I didn’t
see myself here, not once I’d left my mother

and father’s house. Not Ohio, not round on the ends,
not high in the middle, not where some creeks

are called cricks. I always thought I would leave,
home-free, and go anywhere: land of silver

mesquite branches, land of dry riverbeds
with stones a horse could spark its hooves on.

Not here, not knee-high by July, not in the heart
of it all, not where some cricks are creeks:

Alum, Big Darby, Blacklick. I didn’t see myself
raising children here, raising as if they could

levitate if we focused our attention. I didn’t
see myself dying in my hometown, not a few

miles from where I was born, not surrounded
by my children, their feet planted on the ground.

I can see them. They’ll say they always knew
where to find me. They’ll say I was always here.

~by Maggie Smith
~from Good Bones, 2017

*Actually there IS a rhyme for this:
"The corn is as high / as an elephant's eye"

Last month I was comparing John Steinbeck with novelist Ann Patchett, so alike in their vision of a picture - perfect landscape. This month, I'm contrasting Steinbeck and poet Maggie Smith, so different in their views of leaving home or staying put. Steinbeck is convinced that searching far afield is the one true path, while Smith presents the magic charm of blooming where planted, "a few miles from where I was born."

For Steinbeck, the urge for new vistas is irresistible. His heart aches for the little neighbor boy who sees him getting ready to drive for weeks across the country, and begs: "take me with you." Steinbeck writes: "Unfortunately, I knew his longing. . . . He had the dream I've had all my life, and there is no cure." Or the young man he meets later on who reads The New Yorker and dreams of going there on his own one day: "'One likes to see for one's self,' he said. I swear he said it" (Travels With Charley, 10 - 11; 172)).

For Smith, on the other hand, a familiar circumference is ultimately a gift to her children:
" . . . They’ll say they always knew
where to find me. They’ll say I was always here."
Remember, even Yeats (see blog header way up above) hoped for his daughter to be "Rooted in one dear perpetual place. . . . accustomed, ceremonious."

Is it, or is it not "supposed to be any way"? Is one life choice significantly better than or preferable to the other? Or is it 6 of one, 5 of the other -- as in, yes, there is a difference, but just not much, and not always clear which is which. I can't really imagine my life if my parents had abided perpetually close at hand, or if I had, or if Gerry had. The literary connecions suggest many options: staying forever, going away but returning, striking out on your own and learning something new, leaving and never looking back . . .

1. Shakespeare

ROMEO [upon learning of his banishment]:
"There is no world without Verona walls."

FRIAR LAWRENCE:
"Be patient, for the world is broad and wide."

2. Charlotte Bronte

" . . . my experience had been of [the world's] rules and systems; now I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go forth into its expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils."(Jane Eyre, Chapter 10)

3. John Denver

" On the eve of his twentyfirst birthday
he set out on his own
He was thirty years and running
when he found his way back home
Riding a storm across the mountains
and an aching in his heart
Said he came to turn the pages
and to make a brand new start . . .

There was something in the city
that he said he couldn't breathe
And there was something in the country
that he said he couldn't leave . . . "

4. Alan Parsons

"The traveler is always leaving town
He never has the time to turn around
And if the road he's taken isn't leading anywhere
He seems to be completely unaware . . .

The traveler awaits the morning tide
He doesn't know what's on the other side
But something deep inside of him
Keeps telling him to go
He hasn't found a reason to say no . . . "

5. David Wagoner

" . . . not from the hustings or the barricades
Or the rickety stage . . .
But from another way out . . . Get out of town."

6. Josephine Tey

"It was typical that Robert's ambition was to go back to the little country town and continue life as it was; while Kevin's was to alter everything that was alterable in the Law and to make as much noise as possible in the doing of it" (The Franchise Affair, 93)

7. Walt Whitman

“Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:
You shall not heap up what is call’d riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d, you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction before you are
call’d by an irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you,
What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach’d hands toward you."
("Song of the Open Road” #11)

Next Fortnightly Post
Tuesday, May 28th
Previous Fortnightly ~ More Steinbeck

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogsppot.com