Future uncertain for Dewey's flagship

Commissioned in 1895, the [U.S.S. Olympia], with a top speed of 21.7 knots, became the flagship of the Asiatic Squadron, and on May 1, 1898, led the squadron into Manila Bay. Standing on the bridge in the early morning light, Dewey turned to the Olympia's commander, Capt. Charles V. Gridley, and famously said, "You may fire when you are ready, Gridley..."

Now, the Olympia, the only surviving warship afloat from the Spanish-American War and a major national historic treasure, is sailing into an uncertain future. After having spent more than $5.3 million trying to keep the vessel afloat, its current owners are looking for a new steward or stewards who have the estimated $30 million to $40 million dollars needed to make the Olympia shipshape....

[From the article "Two ships at risk of not staying afloat," by Frederick N. Rasmussen, The Baltimore Sun, March 14, 2010.]

FRIDAYS WITH WARREN

This is a "feature", of sorts, that began on Facebook. Over the course of several weeks, it seemed that every time Friday rolled around, I was in that Zevon frame of mind and invariably posted some video of his. AJ Michel later dubbed it "Fridays with Warren".

Today's selection is "Splendid Isolation", here featured in live performance on David Letterman. Zevon was a frequent guest on Letterman's show (if memory serves correctly, I believe the two had been roommates at some point way back when), and he'd often sub for Paul Schaeffer whenever he was out of town. In October 2002, having been diagnosed with terminal mesothelioma, Zevon gave his last public performance on Letterman; in the ensuing interview, Zevon offered his now oft-quoted summation of life: to "enjoy every sandwich." He died in September the following year.

I was fortunate enough to see him live no less than a half-dozen times. I really miss his shows - as much for his banter between songs as the music itself. One time, while performing on stage at the Theater of Living Arts on South Street in Philadelphia, he remarked that he'd been in the music business for 30-odd years.

"How many folks out there playing now will be around in, say, 10 years," he posited, then, after a protracted pause, added, "Take Alanis..."

At this, a handful of people in the audience groaned; Morissette was all over the radio dial in those days.

"Nah," Zevon added dryly. "She'll still be playing. Ten years from now, she'll be up here on stage, and some drunk guy will be down in front yelling, 'Hey, Alanis, do the one where you give the guy the blow job.'"