Monthly Archives: August 2009

Chuck Jones’ letters to his daughter, Linda

 

Post #29

 

Friday, Nov. 8, 1952

 

Dear Linda;

 

Good old Friday
afternoon!  This has been a hectic
week, what with the election and post-election hullabaloo (two l’s in
hullabaloo?  or is it hulaballo?
No, that’s obviously wrong.  Just a
minute and I’ll look it up….Ah, yes, hullabaloo, a loud and confused noise,
uproar, tumult.).  Well anyway,
what with the election out of the way things are beginning to simmer down a
little, almost as if people were not at each other’s throats three short days
ago.  The losers are accepting the new
order of things with surprising grace and beginning to appreciate the fact that
they can enjoy the fun of criticism. 
The winners are beginning to lose the smugness from their faces now that
they realize they, or rather their party, must now deliver, and that when it
fails to they become the ready targets for their Democratic friends.  Indeed, the position of His Majesty’s
Loyal Opposition is not without its advantages.

 

Here’s a nice word—nestled
in close to hullabaloo: hugger-mugger. 
It means 1. Secret, sly. 2. slovenly.

 

Here’s another: Hudibras:
burlesque, heroic.  Isn’t that an
odd one?  Sinclair Lewis once said
that if he must choose one book to carry with him on the proverbial desert
island it could only be a Webster’s Unabridged dictionary and you can easily
see why.  Besides all the
fascinating facts and bits of odd information, things like this happen: here is
on this same page the name Huassar, an Inca of Peru (1495-1532) who was put to
death by his brother Atahualpa. 
Looking up Atahualpa we find this: 
‘Last Inca of Peru, put to death by Pizarro, 1533.’  He wasn’t the last Inca very long, not
longer than a year after he assassinated his brother, Pizarro came swarming in
and put him to death.  We could go
on easily and quickly piece out the whole picture of the time.  We can get information about Peru,
about Incas, about Pizarro and each of these words will give us other key words
and so we can continue on until we have formed a story and an era like piecing
together some fascinating puzzle. 
What fun it is to be alive!

 

We are going to Luby’s
house tomorrow night to eat some wild duck, shot by Gene [Poddany] on his last
hunting trip.  I dread it in a
way.  Wild game sort of leaves me
cold.  But what the Hell, it gives
them pleasure and I don’t suppose it will kill me.  I hope not.  As
Mark Twain once said when he narrowly avoided death, “I wasn’t killed that time
and I never found cause to regret it.”

 

Tonight we are going out
to Maywood to dance at the opening of a gigantic service station, for god’s sake.  Just why we should do this I do not
know.  Square dancers may be nuts
but this seems over the limit.

 

Your loving sire…..

 


Chuck Jones’ letters to his daughter, Linda

 

Post #29

 

Friday, Nov. 8, 1952

 

Dear Linda;

 

Good old Friday
afternoon!  This has been a hectic
week, what with the election and post-election hullabaloo (two l’s in
hullabaloo?  or is it hulaballo?
No, that’s obviously wrong.  Just a
minute and I’ll look it up….Ah, yes, hullabaloo, a loud and confused noise,
uproar, tumult.).  Well anyway,
what with the election out of the way things are beginning to simmer down a
little, almost as if people were not at each other’s throats three short days
ago.  The losers are accepting the new
order of things with surprising grace and beginning to appreciate the fact that
they can enjoy the fun of criticism. 
The winners are beginning to lose the smugness from their faces now that
they realize they, or rather their party, must now deliver, and that when it
fails to they become the ready targets for their Democratic friends.  Indeed, the position of His Majesty’s
Loyal Opposition is not without its advantages.

 

Here’s a nice word—nestled
in close to hullabaloo: hugger-mugger. 
It means 1. Secret, sly. 2. slovenly.

 

Here’s another: Hudibras:
burlesque, heroic.  Isn’t that an
odd one?  Sinclair Lewis once said
that if he must choose one book to carry with him on the proverbial desert
island it could only be a Webster’s Unabridged dictionary and you can easily
see why.  Besides all the
fascinating facts and bits of odd information, things like this happen: here is
on this same page the name Huassar, an Inca of Peru (1495-1532) who was put to
death by his brother Atahualpa. 
Looking up Atahualpa we find this: 
‘Last Inca of Peru, put to death by Pizarro, 1533.’  He wasn’t the last Inca very long, not
longer than a year after he assassinated his brother, Pizarro came swarming in
and put him to death.  We could go
on easily and quickly piece out the whole picture of the time.  We can get information about Peru,
about Incas, about Pizarro and each of these words will give us other key words
and so we can continue on until we have formed a story and an era like piecing
together some fascinating puzzle. 
What fun it is to be alive!

 

We are going to Luby’s
house tomorrow night to eat some wild duck, shot by Gene [Poddany] on his last
hunting trip.  I dread it in a
way.  Wild game sort of leaves me
cold.  But what the Hell, it gives
them pleasure and I don’t suppose it will kill me.  I hope not.  As
Mark Twain once said when he narrowly avoided death, “I wasn’t killed that time
and I never found cause to regret it.”

 

Tonight we are going out
to Maywood to dance at the opening of a gigantic service station, for god’s sake.  Just why we should do this I do not
know.  Square dancers may be nuts
but this seems over the limit.

 

Your loving sire…..

 


Chuck Jones Exhibition Benefits Center for Creativity

Morgan Hill ad v3 out about copy

Craig Kausen, Chuck Jones' grandson, will be the special guest of the Morgan Hill Downtown organization at a reception tonight at 17380 Monterey Rd. in Morgan Hill (just a short drive from San Jose.)  If you're in the neighborhood, please drop in and introduce yourself! 

Tomorrow night, Craig will present an evening of Chuck Jones cartoons 'under the stars' in downtown Morgan Hill.  Visit this website to learn more: Morgan Hill Downtown

Chuck Jones’ letters to his daughter, Linda

Post # 28

Thursday, November 6, 1952

Dearest Linda;

Well–, at last!  I’ve finally found a hole big enough in a day to write to you, I have been pouring it on indeed and was loth .. er .. loath to break into the mood.  (‘Loth’ is another and quite acceptable way of spelling ‘loath’.)

The elections are now things of the past and we who lost are licking our wounds with gentle introspection.  As some politician once said after just such a defeat, “I contend we took one Hell of a beating.”  We cannot ameliorate our feelings by excuses, the long and short of it is that we received a frightful clobbering.  Why, I do not know.

The Republicans are now firmly in command, perhaps in a way this a good thing, for now they must prove the words they have been spraying so freely around.  If they do, then we must acknowledge that they are men of good faith and that they are a good change for the country.  If they do not, then they must in two years face an election that can change the entire face of the House of Representatives and one third of the Senate.  Two years beyond that they must again face a presidential election.  If, in the time allotted them, they cannot prove that they have the interest of the people held higher than any special interest, then indeed they will sink back into a political morass worse than the one from which they have just emerged.  I do not think that the people of the United States will be gulled twice.  I believe that Dwight Eisenhower is a fine, intelligent and kindly man.  It remains to be seen whether he can control his own party and we must appraise him partly by the men he includes in his cabinet for this will be the first indication of what his policies are to be.  I hope with the keenest intensity that he is a fine and spotless president and that his stewardship will be counted as one of our best.  We’ll wait and see.

Have you thought any more about giving some drawing, nicely matted of course, for some gifts?  Or would you rather not?  Don’t matter to me.  (“don’t” in last sentence was intentional, don’t know why.)

Just returned from a quick trip down town to pick up a few little things for carving, sand paper, files, etc.  What a terrible, terrible depressing place downtown is.  Sadness, sickness, misery, hopelessness.  A painful experience.  Of course, that is a small section and a very poor one (Second and Broadway), but how dreadful that humans must endure such.

One fact emerges crystal clear, though, and that is that you are a super daughter: a slim straight assurance that some of my dreams never die.  In short, I love you.

 

Chuck Jones’ letters to his daughter, Linda

Post # 28

Thursday, November 6, 1952

Dearest Linda;

Well–, at last!  I’ve finally found a hole big enough in a day to write to you, I have been pouring it on indeed and was loth .. er .. loath to break into the mood.  (‘Loth’ is another and quite acceptable way of spelling ‘loath’.)

The elections are now things of the past and we who lost are licking our wounds with gentle introspection.  As some politician once said after just such a defeat, “I contend we took one Hell of a beating.”  We cannot ameliorate our feelings by excuses, the long and short of it is that we received a frightful clobbering.  Why, I do not know.

The Republicans are now firmly in command, perhaps in a way this a good thing, for now they must prove the words they have been spraying so freely around.  If they do, then we must acknowledge that they are men of good faith and that they are a good change for the country.  If they do not, then they must in two years face an election that can change the entire face of the House of Representatives and one third of the Senate.  Two years beyond that they must again face a presidential election.  If, in the time allotted them, they cannot prove that they have the interest of the people held higher than any special interest, then indeed they will sink back into a political morass worse than the one from which they have just emerged.  I do not think that the people of the United States will be gulled twice.  I believe that Dwight Eisenhower is a fine, intelligent and kindly man.  It remains to be seen whether he can control his own party and we must appraise him partly by the men he includes in his cabinet for this will be the first indication of what his policies are to be.  I hope with the keenest intensity that he is a fine and spotless president and that his stewardship will be counted as one of our best.  We’ll wait and see.

Have you thought any more about giving some drawing, nicely matted of course, for some gifts?  Or would you rather not?  Don’t matter to me.  (“don’t” in last sentence was intentional, don’t know why.)

Just returned from a quick trip down town to pick up a few little things for carving, sand paper, files, etc.  What a terrible, terrible depressing place downtown is.  Sadness, sickness, misery, hopelessness.  A painful experience.  Of course, that is a small section and a very poor one (Second and Broadway), but how dreadful that humans must endure such.

One fact emerges crystal clear, though, and that is that you are a super daughter: a slim straight assurance that some of my dreams never die.  In short, I love you.

 

Craig Kausen & George Daugherty: Bugs Bunny on Broadway Interviews

BBoB Rehearsal
George Daugherty in rehearsal with the RTE Symphony Orchestra the day of the premier of his "Bugs Bunny on Broadway" in Dublin, Ireland at the National Concert Hall on Earlsfort Terrace.

Darragh Doyle interviewed Craig Kausen (Chuck Jones' grandson) and George Daugherty, creator, producer and conductor of "Bugs Bunny on Broadway."  You can read his blog post by clicking here and see more photos of the rehearsal. 


Chuck Jones’ letters to his daughter, Linda

Post #27

Friday afternoon
October 31, 1952
Halloween, by Gad!

Hi Linda!!

Bright, cheery greeting, hm?  Odd, because I have again today banged myself silly on drawing.  About sixty finished sketches.  Not a record, but what might be loosely termed a full day’s work.  I guess I’ll run the fearful risk of becoming repetitious and express again the wonderful feeling it is to have the drawings come out so smooth and easily, so that as they form under my pencil there is an almost sensual pleasure.  For me, who spent so many, many driving painful years in trial and error (empirical) methods, it is like being released from prison.  Mainly through Don Graham, I have a way of assaying a drawing, my own or somebody else’s, and deciding whether it will work or not.  Just as one proves an algebraic or geometric problem.  I do not mean that a drawing can be made that way, but it can be proved that way and here is where the joy comes in, for if I can become a decent judge of a drawing, I am released from so much worry in terms of uncertainty and doubt.  Some times, of course, my drawing hand won’t respond, but I know that, too, and the best thing to do at such times is to stop drawing, back away and do something else, but don’t beat my brains out in fruitlessly bashing away at a thankless and baffling job.  But when it is flowing, ride it, ride it!  Those golden moments when it flows smoothly and sweetly must be utilized when they are blooming and that’s what I’ve been doing these last few days.  Driving myself like a miner following the mother lode, eager to trail the glittering vein till it gives out.

Boy, how rich and beautiful can prose become?  I not only sound happy, I sound sent.

You may have heard this one, but it bears reminding.  A man was in a picture house watching a film when he became aware that next to him was not a person, but a large Newfoundland dog apparently getting a tremendous kick out of the feature.  He was so impressed by this animal that he could hardly keep his eyes off of him.  But the dog continued quite absorbed until the end.  As they walked out the man caught with the dog’s master.  “I’m really amazed,” he said.  “Your dog seemed to enjoy every minute of the picture.”  “I’m amazed, too,” the man replied.  “He didn’t care for the book.”

How goes it with the history…(and the Latin)?  Or have you already answered?  I was about to say that I knew you could do it…which is ridiculous.  People are always knowing their children can do things, things that well may be impossible, for all the parents know.  How can you know somebody can do something when you don’t even know what that implies?

I know I love you.
    Love you.
        Love you.
            Lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ove view…

 

Chuck Jones’ letters to his daughter, Linda

Post #27

Friday afternoon
October 31, 1952
Halloween, by Gad!

Hi Linda!!

Bright, cheery greeting, hm?  Odd, because I have again today banged myself silly on drawing.  About sixty finished sketches.  Not a record, but what might be loosely termed a full day’s work.  I guess I’ll run the fearful risk of becoming repetitious and express again the wonderful feeling it is to have the drawings come out so smooth and easily, so that as they form under my pencil there is an almost sensual pleasure.  For me, who spent so many, many driving painful years in trial and error (empirical) methods, it is like being released from prison.  Mainly through Don Graham, I have a way of assaying a drawing, my own or somebody else’s, and deciding whether it will work or not.  Just as one proves an algebraic or geometric problem.  I do not mean that a drawing can be made that way, but it can be proved that way and here is where the joy comes in, for if I can become a decent judge of a drawing, I am released from so much worry in terms of uncertainty and doubt.  Some times, of course, my drawing hand won’t respond, but I know that, too, and the best thing to do at such times is to stop drawing, back away and do something else, but don’t beat my brains out in fruitlessly bashing away at a thankless and baffling job.  But when it is flowing, ride it, ride it!  Those golden moments when it flows smoothly and sweetly must be utilized when they are blooming and that’s what I’ve been doing these last few days.  Driving myself like a miner following the mother lode, eager to trail the glittering vein till it gives out.

Boy, how rich and beautiful can prose become?  I not only sound happy, I sound sent.

You may have heard this one, but it bears reminding.  A man was in a picture house watching a film when he became aware that next to him was not a person, but a large Newfoundland dog apparently getting a tremendous kick out of the feature.  He was so impressed by this animal that he could hardly keep his eyes off of him.  But the dog continued quite absorbed until the end.  As they walked out the man caught with the dog’s master.  “I’m really amazed,” he said.  “Your dog seemed to enjoy every minute of the picture.”  “I’m amazed, too,” the man replied.  “He didn’t care for the book.”

How goes it with the history…(and the Latin)?  Or have you already answered?  I was about to say that I knew you could do it…which is ridiculous.  People are always knowing their children can do things, things that well may be impossible, for all the parents know.  How can you know somebody can do something when you don’t even know what that implies?

I know I love you.
    Love you.
        Love you.
            Lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ove view…
                                   

In Ireland? Win 2 Tickets to “Bugs Bunny on Broadway” in Dublin!

82894

Clean off your top hat, get the diamonds out of the vault and get ready for a night (or afternoon) on the town! 

The incomparable George Daugherty, creator,
producer and conductor of the outstanding entertainment, Bugs Bunny on Broadway
will be taking bows in the beautiful National Concert Hall with the RTE
Concert Orchestra in Dublin, Ireland this coming August 7th and 8th. 

Craig
Kausen, grandson of the inimitable Chuck Jones, will be a special guest
of Daugherty's for the three performances (Friday evening at 8 PM,
Saturday matinee at 2:30 PM and again at 8 PM that evening.)  

YOU CAN WIN A PAIR OF FREE TICKETS TO ONE OF THESE CONCERTS

by emailing BugsDublin@ChuckJones.com.  In the subject line, please write: Bugs Dublin
and in the body of your email, please include your name and address. 
Winners will be notified on Tuesday, August 4 for the Friday evening
performance; Wednesday the 5th for the Saturday matinee and Thursday
the 6th for Saturday evening's final event. Tickets will be held for
you at Will Call at the National Concert Hall, Earlsfort Terrace,
Dublin, Ireland.

To learn more about the concert and the venue, click here