B. wanted to hear the Winchester Orchestra in Vaughan Williams's cantata Dona nobis pacem, but only if I could drive her. I judged this more appealing than the SF Symphony, so we went. "We are a nation at war," wrote conductor James Beauton in the program notes, "which is why this evening's performance feels especially relevant." It was a fine performance, solid orchestra, strong and well-directed chorus, and soprano Amy Spencer's calls of the fading "Dona nobis pacem" were under tight control and exquisitely done.
But we should have left at intermission, because the second half was a "symphonic suite" (actually full of the chorus going "ahhh") of music from the series She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, which I've never seen nor heard of. Composer Sunna Wehrmeijer created the music digitally, so it had to be painstakingly scored so that an orchestra could play it. Was it worth the trouble? No! A lot of overloud off-the-shelf movie music, full of whooshing sounds and clanking effects. B. put in her earplugs and read from her tablet to pass the time. As for me, my watch said the piece was 40 minutes long, but it didn't seem so long, so I suspect that B. was right in saying that I did nod off for parts. Which she found amazing due to the Awful Dynne.
Kalimac's corner: a journal by DB
Friday, May 8, 2026
Thursday, May 7, 2026
home electrician
Last night while stumbling to the bathroom I knocked down a framed drawing from the wall while fumbling for the bathroom door. In the morning, B. discovered that the falling frame had knocked the toggle off the ancient light switch. This was the switch that controlled the overhead lights for the bedroom as well as the outlets where we plug in the fans that keep the room cool in hot summer nights, nights which are expected to resume this week. So we needed the toggle fixed, and fast.
I could have called in an electrician for much money, but there was nothing else for him to do right now in terms of home repairs. I decided to see if I could do it myself. I bought a new light switch from the local hardware store and gathered the tools. Not knowing which breaker controlled the room, I turned off the master breaker for the house.
Detaching the old switch from the wall and unconnecting the wires was one job; stripping the wire that needed it, connecting them to the new switch, and installing it in the wall was quite another. B. had found a useful illustrated article (not a video, blessed be) on how to replace a light switch. I found I already knew most of it, which was encouraging regarding my competence to do the job, but it had some useful information, such as that it doesn't matter which connection you attach each of the two hot wires to, which was relieving because the layout of the old switch and the new switch was different, so if it had mattered I wouldn't have known how to map the old one on to the new one. Unless the article had explained it, which it probably would have.
The big problem, not addressed by the article, was attaching the plate to the wall. The long screws could go through holes in the switch but couldn't fit into anything in the wall, so how was the whole (plate + switch) going to attach to the wall? I suspect that the old plate was original to the house and wasn't screwed in to the wall at all, but had been stuck on the wall paint when it was still wet; some prying had been necessary for detaching it. So I fixed the plate to the wall with a couple of pieces of transparent duct tape. One more thing to alert the landlord to whenever we do move out of here.
I could have called in an electrician for much money, but there was nothing else for him to do right now in terms of home repairs. I decided to see if I could do it myself. I bought a new light switch from the local hardware store and gathered the tools. Not knowing which breaker controlled the room, I turned off the master breaker for the house.
Detaching the old switch from the wall and unconnecting the wires was one job; stripping the wire that needed it, connecting them to the new switch, and installing it in the wall was quite another. B. had found a useful illustrated article (not a video, blessed be) on how to replace a light switch. I found I already knew most of it, which was encouraging regarding my competence to do the job, but it had some useful information, such as that it doesn't matter which connection you attach each of the two hot wires to, which was relieving because the layout of the old switch and the new switch was different, so if it had mattered I wouldn't have known how to map the old one on to the new one. Unless the article had explained it, which it probably would have.
The big problem, not addressed by the article, was attaching the plate to the wall. The long screws could go through holes in the switch but couldn't fit into anything in the wall, so how was the whole (plate + switch) going to attach to the wall? I suspect that the old plate was original to the house and wasn't screwed in to the wall at all, but had been stuck on the wall paint when it was still wet; some prying had been necessary for detaching it. So I fixed the plate to the wall with a couple of pieces of transparent duct tape. One more thing to alert the landlord to whenever we do move out of here.
Tuesday, May 5, 2026
prime ministerial memoirs
David Cameron, For the Record (Harper, 2019)
The question posed by this enormous book (703 pages of text) is, does David Cameron really get how much of a disaster he inflicted on the UK by holding the Brexit referendum and then losing it?
And the answer is, sort of. This book is full of regrets at things not done or done not well enough, but mostly they take the form of regrets at not expressing himself clearly enough, with the implication that he must have failed because, if he'd succeeded, his perfectly formed views would have commanded universal assent. Uh-huh. I do wonder how much of the book's lengthy exposition of issues came from speeches that Cameron gave at the time, and if not, if he should have given them as speeches.
As for Brexit, Cameron defends holding the referendum on the grounds that the pressure to do so was so great that, had he resisted it, it would have broken out even more virulently later, and would be even more likely to have gone Leave than were the chances with the actual referendum. As for why it was lost, Cameron blames increased immigration, and for that he blames the UK having the best economy in Europe at the time, making everyone want to come there. So for losing the referendum he blames his own brilliant economic policies. What a guy.
For me, the most surprising and dismaying aspect of the book was the enormous amount of time Cameron had to spend arguing with other national leaders at EU summits. Usual scenario: the UK wants one policy, all the other countries want something else.* Requirements for universal assent ought to prevent the UK from getting run over, but the EU staff usually find a way around that. This happens over and over again, leaving me a lot less puzzled than I had been as to why Leave won the referendum, but despite everything Cameron wants to Remain, on the grounds that it's better to have a seat at the table than not, regardless of how badly you're losing. But then at the end he undercuts this by looking on the bright side of Brexit by seeing it as an opportunity to forge a new relationship with Europe.
But the book is more than detailed accounts of issues and negotiations, wearisome though they are. Cameron puts in a fair amount about his personal life, notable especially for the illness and death of his small son, and how he felt about things, beginning with a description of his becoming PM (he then flashes back to his earlier life) focused on how he reacted and thought about what was happening. There's only so far he can go in that direction, but it's an attempt. Generally, Cameron thinks he was a pretty good PM who got a lot done, and I guess he was broadly competent in a way denied to all his successors to date: five of them in a mere ten years, an unending succession of clown cars, though May and Truss he considers to have been competent subordinates of his own, and perhaps they were. He is critical of a few subordinates, notably IDS whom he keeps not firing from Work and Pensions because he's afraid of the right-wing backlash if he does, and Steve Hilton whose description as "one part brilliant to several parts bonkers" I've already quoted. At one point, and one only, I cheered, and that's when Cameron quotes himself defending same-sex marriage as a conservative policy if properly viewed, a perspective I share.
However, the main lessons of this book seem to be 1) Cameron's hopeless optimism about Europe; 2) his terror at offending the right-wing rebels, so extreme that he'll do anything they want to keep them quiet. Neither of these policies actually work very well, so perhaps a different approach might have been superior.
*At one point Cameron has one ally, but as it's Viktor Orbán it doesn't do him any good. The question, "Uh-oh, am I on the wrong side?" doesn't occur to him.
The question posed by this enormous book (703 pages of text) is, does David Cameron really get how much of a disaster he inflicted on the UK by holding the Brexit referendum and then losing it?
And the answer is, sort of. This book is full of regrets at things not done or done not well enough, but mostly they take the form of regrets at not expressing himself clearly enough, with the implication that he must have failed because, if he'd succeeded, his perfectly formed views would have commanded universal assent. Uh-huh. I do wonder how much of the book's lengthy exposition of issues came from speeches that Cameron gave at the time, and if not, if he should have given them as speeches.
As for Brexit, Cameron defends holding the referendum on the grounds that the pressure to do so was so great that, had he resisted it, it would have broken out even more virulently later, and would be even more likely to have gone Leave than were the chances with the actual referendum. As for why it was lost, Cameron blames increased immigration, and for that he blames the UK having the best economy in Europe at the time, making everyone want to come there. So for losing the referendum he blames his own brilliant economic policies. What a guy.
For me, the most surprising and dismaying aspect of the book was the enormous amount of time Cameron had to spend arguing with other national leaders at EU summits. Usual scenario: the UK wants one policy, all the other countries want something else.* Requirements for universal assent ought to prevent the UK from getting run over, but the EU staff usually find a way around that. This happens over and over again, leaving me a lot less puzzled than I had been as to why Leave won the referendum, but despite everything Cameron wants to Remain, on the grounds that it's better to have a seat at the table than not, regardless of how badly you're losing. But then at the end he undercuts this by looking on the bright side of Brexit by seeing it as an opportunity to forge a new relationship with Europe.
But the book is more than detailed accounts of issues and negotiations, wearisome though they are. Cameron puts in a fair amount about his personal life, notable especially for the illness and death of his small son, and how he felt about things, beginning with a description of his becoming PM (he then flashes back to his earlier life) focused on how he reacted and thought about what was happening. There's only so far he can go in that direction, but it's an attempt. Generally, Cameron thinks he was a pretty good PM who got a lot done, and I guess he was broadly competent in a way denied to all his successors to date: five of them in a mere ten years, an unending succession of clown cars, though May and Truss he considers to have been competent subordinates of his own, and perhaps they were. He is critical of a few subordinates, notably IDS whom he keeps not firing from Work and Pensions because he's afraid of the right-wing backlash if he does, and Steve Hilton whose description as "one part brilliant to several parts bonkers" I've already quoted. At one point, and one only, I cheered, and that's when Cameron quotes himself defending same-sex marriage as a conservative policy if properly viewed, a perspective I share.
However, the main lessons of this book seem to be 1) Cameron's hopeless optimism about Europe; 2) his terror at offending the right-wing rebels, so extreme that he'll do anything they want to keep them quiet. Neither of these policies actually work very well, so perhaps a different approach might have been superior.
*At one point Cameron has one ally, but as it's Viktor Orbán it doesn't do him any good. The question, "Uh-oh, am I on the wrong side?" doesn't occur to him.
Monday, May 4, 2026
1 1/2 concerts
Saratoga Symphony, Sunday: This community orchestra gave a fairly rarified program under Jason Klein, the best-known piece being the Romanian Rhapsody No. 1 by George Enescu, played with sufficient liveliness and drive. Plus A Fugal Overture by Gustav Holst, which wasn't very fugal, and two unusual turn-of-the-20C tone poems, neither apparently ever played in the U.S. before: The Witch of Atlas by Granville Bantock, a character which in the Shelley poem it's based on is more of a benevolent angel than a witch, and which was accordingly represented in peaceful music with a lot of solos for violin and English horn; and The Isle of the Dead by the Swedish composer Andreas Hallén, one of numerous tone poems based on the Arnold Böcklin painting, but unlike any of the other composers, who treated it as dark and ominous, Hallén preferred to depict the consolatory aspect of death, and after a mournful beginning his composition turns gentle and even incongruously lush in a slightly Wagnerian manner.
San Francisco Conservatory Orchestra, Saturday: I attended this, or rather part of it, by livestream. Student conductors led Beethoven's goofy King Stephen Overture and Revueltas's Sensemayá, the latter with firm enough rhythm but nevertheless sludgy. Music director Edwin Outwater, a former assistant to MTT, dedicated the concert to MTT's memory, pointing out that all the pieces were ones he'd play, and led the orchestra in John Adams's Absolute Jest, his concerto for string quartet and orchestra, much better-balanced than the last time I'd heard it, but at which the Esmé Quartet were wasted as soloists, their exquisite approach to Romantic music having no role in Adams's jerky and rigid postmodernism. But I was too tired to sit in my work chair and listen to the concluding piece, Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, so I skipped it.
San Francisco Conservatory Orchestra, Saturday: I attended this, or rather part of it, by livestream. Student conductors led Beethoven's goofy King Stephen Overture and Revueltas's Sensemayá, the latter with firm enough rhythm but nevertheless sludgy. Music director Edwin Outwater, a former assistant to MTT, dedicated the concert to MTT's memory, pointing out that all the pieces were ones he'd play, and led the orchestra in John Adams's Absolute Jest, his concerto for string quartet and orchestra, much better-balanced than the last time I'd heard it, but at which the Esmé Quartet were wasted as soloists, their exquisite approach to Romantic music having no role in Adams's jerky and rigid postmodernism. But I was too tired to sit in my work chair and listen to the concluding piece, Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, so I skipped it.
Sunday, May 3, 2026
movie not finished
The Power of the Dog (2021)
An article on the best movies on Netflix said that this was "not just one of the best movies on Netflix right now: It’s one of the best movies ever." Unfortunately it turned out to be great only in the sense that some of those "great novels" I had to read in literature class were great, i.e. totally wretched.
The main characters in this one are a pair of brothers who are cattle ranchers together in Montana (played by New Zealand) in the 1920s. One of them, Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) is a hard man. Though they've worked together for decades, he considers his brother George (Jesse Plemons) to be something of a wimp. George is sweet on the widow lady (Kirsten Dunst) who runs a cookhouse where the ranchers often eat. Phil doesn't think much of her, the more so as her late husband had committed suicide, which Phil evidently considers a rather wussy thing to do. As for the widow's teenage son (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who has artistic leanings, Phil thinks he's a total pansy. This is all played out as if it were written in neon signs.
George is incredibly awkward courting the widow, the more so after they suddenly up and get married, which George doesn't even tell Phil about until afterwards. Uh-oh, there's trouble ahead, forced on the story by the contorted plot. I stopped watching at this point and consulted the Wikipedia plot summary, which I'd previously avoided. Yup, there's trouble ahead. I'm glad I didn't have to watch any more of this tortured pretentious mess.
An article on the best movies on Netflix said that this was "not just one of the best movies on Netflix right now: It’s one of the best movies ever." Unfortunately it turned out to be great only in the sense that some of those "great novels" I had to read in literature class were great, i.e. totally wretched.
The main characters in this one are a pair of brothers who are cattle ranchers together in Montana (played by New Zealand) in the 1920s. One of them, Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) is a hard man. Though they've worked together for decades, he considers his brother George (Jesse Plemons) to be something of a wimp. George is sweet on the widow lady (Kirsten Dunst) who runs a cookhouse where the ranchers often eat. Phil doesn't think much of her, the more so as her late husband had committed suicide, which Phil evidently considers a rather wussy thing to do. As for the widow's teenage son (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who has artistic leanings, Phil thinks he's a total pansy. This is all played out as if it were written in neon signs.
George is incredibly awkward courting the widow, the more so after they suddenly up and get married, which George doesn't even tell Phil about until afterwards. Uh-oh, there's trouble ahead, forced on the story by the contorted plot. I stopped watching at this point and consulted the Wikipedia plot summary, which I'd previously avoided. Yup, there's trouble ahead. I'm glad I didn't have to watch any more of this tortured pretentious mess.
Saturday, May 2, 2026
eh
I made one more stab at trying to find a Terry Pratchett novel I might like. I read somewhere that Night Watch is considered one of his very best, perhaps the finest fantasy novel of the then-nascent (it was published in 2002) 21st century, and more serious than Pratchett's wont - which was encouraging, as I generally find his humor tiresome and unfunny.
Well, I actually enjoyed the first couple pages, about an assassination student who's incompetently trying to tag the hero. It was funny, which the rest of the book isn't. The hero is cast back in time 30 years, and for reasons unclear takes on the identity of his own mentor, whom he doesn't know has died at the time he first uses the name. The scenes in which someone or something - it's not clear who or what this entity is - explains at length to the hero how time-travel works were extremely overlong, tiresome and tedious; I skipped over much of it. The hero is a policeman, and once the time-travel stuff is over, it looks like the book is going to settle into a serious novel about the hero instructing his callow younger self in how to be a good cop. I'm not interested in a police procedural about instructing cops, so I'm quitting here, about a third of the way in, though that's a lot farther than I've gotten in any previous attempts at reading Pratchett.
Well, I actually enjoyed the first couple pages, about an assassination student who's incompetently trying to tag the hero. It was funny, which the rest of the book isn't. The hero is cast back in time 30 years, and for reasons unclear takes on the identity of his own mentor, whom he doesn't know has died at the time he first uses the name. The scenes in which someone or something - it's not clear who or what this entity is - explains at length to the hero how time-travel works were extremely overlong, tiresome and tedious; I skipped over much of it. The hero is a policeman, and once the time-travel stuff is over, it looks like the book is going to settle into a serious novel about the hero instructing his callow younger self in how to be a good cop. I'm not interested in a police procedural about instructing cops, so I'm quitting here, about a third of the way in, though that's a lot farther than I've gotten in any previous attempts at reading Pratchett.
Friday, May 1, 2026
ticket purchasing follies
I've written before about strange experiences getting tickets. Here's another one.
I wanted to attend a concert being given by a small new-music outfit. A news release linked to their concert page. But there was nothing on it about buying tickets.
At first, I assumed they'd be selling tickets only at the door, and I prepared to get there early. But then one day while I was looking at the page again, I noticed that the name of the venue was a link. I clicked on it, and found a list of concerts, every one of which had a ticket-buying link except for this one.
Uh-oh. So I called up the promoting outfit. I had to leave a message, but a man called back almost right away. I said there was no ticket-purchasing link on the concert page; he went to look at it and was surprised that I was right. I said I'd been afraid the concert was sold out. He said, "No, we've sold very few tickets, and I guess now I know why." He said they'd put a purchase ticket link on the page (they have) and he e-mailed me a direct link.
I bought my ticket, and I'm going to this.
I wanted to attend a concert being given by a small new-music outfit. A news release linked to their concert page. But there was nothing on it about buying tickets.
At first, I assumed they'd be selling tickets only at the door, and I prepared to get there early. But then one day while I was looking at the page again, I noticed that the name of the venue was a link. I clicked on it, and found a list of concerts, every one of which had a ticket-buying link except for this one.
Uh-oh. So I called up the promoting outfit. I had to leave a message, but a man called back almost right away. I said there was no ticket-purchasing link on the concert page; he went to look at it and was surprised that I was right. I said I'd been afraid the concert was sold out. He said, "No, we've sold very few tickets, and I guess now I know why." He said they'd put a purchase ticket link on the page (they have) and he e-mailed me a direct link.
I bought my ticket, and I'm going to this.
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