Well-known to our Midwestern readers, John Deere -- founder of Deere and Company [www.deere.com], manufacturer of tractors and farm machinery -- was actually born in 1804 and would thus have been 100 years old in 1904 if he were still alive (alas, he was not).  However, having started out making shovels and pitchforks he is today famous for his eye-catching logo of a rampant yellow reindeer on a bright green ground.  In fact, the star of COLOR SPLASH on the HGTV channel, David Bromstad, was wearing a John Deere jacket with this colorful logo in a recent episode, which I believe symbolically demonstrates the kind of crossover interest --rather a Venn Diagram if you will -- amongst the ranks of our little chat room's potential readership, a diverse group who are unafraid to express their interest in threshing machines along with their innate sense of knowing, say, how to make a room come alive with color.  Yes, we are a multi-faceted, multi-talented coterie, spanning the continent (and if Justin checks in spanning more than that); we are everyhwere, we find beauty and meaning and significance everywhere. Even the orchestra is beautiful.  

Speaking of diversity, I was reminded this morning of my sister B, who lives in a remote outpost on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan under what I only recently discovered to be extremely primitive conditions.  Another sibling of ours went to visit her (no I have not actually been there myself, but B's never been to L.A. either, so I consider us even) and our mutual sibling reported back that B did not possess a DVD player or even a VCR!  How had she been able to watch the various documentaries and musicals I've been sending her on these formats all these years for Christmas and her birthday when I remembered?  Apparently (as I learned to my great chagrin) only with the help of the local school's AV Department.  I think you'll agree, a darkened empty classroom is less than an ideal setting in which to view a pirated copy of SUPERSTAR by Todd Haines, not to mention Visconti's THE DAMNED, or Michael Callen's performance in ZERO PATIENCE.  I was understandably horrified.

I hasten to add, however, that my dear sister B is a Saint: she is the choir director and organist of her church, she works in a supervisory position of great authority in the school system up there and in her free time she works with Jimmy Carter building houses for the poor.  Additionally, she has contributed nearly all her discretionary income (hence explaining the absense of electronics) to charitable projects around the world, notably in Africa, all clearly out of a karmic duty to balance her brother's fitful and capricious attempts at Good Works.

She still does not possess a cell phone but has in the last month been persuaded to purchase a home computer, and she is now linked to the Internet.  So I've been sending her interesting and useful links and recommendations for sites to visit.  One of these is www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com which is one of my personal favorites and which I thought, because she has a cat and lives alone, would afford her hours of fun and entertainment, since I imagine her local Blockbuster doesn't stock much beyond the predictable favorites of "Ice Fishing for Fun and Profit" and "Field Dressing the Bitter Cold Buck."  

This is her reply, which I received this morning, while researching John Deere tractors: 

"If the cats find out we are making fun of them, will they attack us?"

It is this -- her gentle admonishment of my carefree disregard for the lives of our animal friends, her selfless concern and compassion, her simple unassuming life up there -- that makes me wonder how we can possibly be related. 

She makes me want to be a better person.

Meanwhile, however, KUDOS to our precious Sophia, for submitting one of the Truly Great Moments in 1904: the Birth of Cecil Beaton!  If I knew how to copy and paste I would move her comment from yesterday's post up here.  But go seek it out yourself.  This is what it's all about, my darlings.  One year that changed the course of human history.  As my friend AH likes to say and sometimes for no good reason, "Welcome to the Theatre... of WAR."