happy fish doorbell day! and other friendships? to aspire to
Happy Fish Doorbell day!
To help migrating fish gets past the lock and swim through the Oudegracht (old canal) in Utrecht (gotta go lay some eggs up in the shallows, obvs), you can watch the livestream and ring the doorbell if you see a fish. The doorbell sends a photo to the lock keeper, who will open the lock when enough fish are waiting.
John Adams and Benjamin Franklin shared a bed one night - Monday September 9, 1776 - and Adams fell asleep listening to Franklin rant about how they absolutely had to keep the window open all night
“At Brunswick, but one bed could be procured for Dr. Franklin and me... The Window was open, and I, who was an invalid and afraid of the Air in the night <blowing upon me>, shut it close. Oh! says Franklin dont shut the Window. We shall be suffocated. I answered I was afraid of the Evening Air. Dr. Franklin replied, the Air within this Chamber will soon be, and indeed is now worse than that without Doors: come! open the Window and come to bed, and I will convince you: I believe you are not acquainted with my Theory of Colds... The Doctor then began an harrangue, upon Air and cold and Respiration and Perspiration, with which I was so much amused that I soon fell asleep, and left him and his Philosophy together”
- the Autobiography of John Adams (Monday September 9, 1776)
ol Ben was a huge fan of fresh air, and bracing cold, and generally of just airing out his bits
“I rise early almost every morning, and sit in my chamber, without any clothes whatever, half an hour or an hour, according to the season, either reading or writing”
- From Benjamin Franklin to Jacques Barbeu-Dubourg, 28 July 1768
Nikola Tesla cured his buddy Mark Twain’s constipation by oscillating it away with his earthquake machine(, i shit you not, but he sure did)
afaict this is generally believed to be true?
“The Rachmaninoffs were somewhat hesitant to accept an invitation to dinner at the home of Vera and Igor Stravinsky. Rachmaninoff was introverted: “I am not much of a society man. I hardly leave my lair.” Stravinsky agreed, calling Rachmaninoff a “six-and-a-half-foot scowl.” But the two men had much in common—both were Russian-born pianist-composers living in exile, and both were worried for their children, who were trapped in Europe at the height of World War II.
“When the Stravinskys opened their door, they saw Rachmaninoff looming, lanky and dour, looking down on the diminutive, bespectacled Igor. But then Rachmaninoff produced from his pocket a jar of honey, having heard that Stravinsky loved it, and the tension between the two men melted. They steered clear of discussing their widely divergent musical tastes, finding common ground in their dislike for the music business in a lively discussion about managers, concert bureaus, agents, ASCAP, and royalties.”
- Rachmaninoff Was Here (1260 North Wetherly Drive, Los Angeles, CA 90069)
(disappointingly probably not true, however, is the fun urban legend that starlings were introduced to NYC by Eugene Schieffelin as part of an attempt to introduce all the bird species mentioned in William Shakespeare’s plays to America. ah well.) (it seems somewhat more likely that the story of the green monk parakeets of Brooklyn being airport shipping crate escapees is at least sort of true, which brings some comfort)
H.P. Lovecraft wrote short story Under the Pyramids in collaboration with Harry Houdini, but I couldn’t quite get into it (full text). afaict from skimming it’s appropriately eldritch and stygian, and also very full of both escape artistry and racial stereotyping.
(i’m kinda delighted that those two people did a thing together, even if it did turn out to be this particular thing)
not friends - (sorry yeah probably everyone already knows this one but just in case) - famously whiny disaster bi Hans Christian Andersen crashed with Charles Dickens (unwanted and never sincerely invited) for like 5 weeks straight and was “a bony bore” who did crazy shit like
“When he arrived, he asked that one of Dickens’s own sons give him a daily shave... One night, during a dinner, when Dickens held an arm out to one of the ladies present, Anderson scooted over and grabbed it himself, and walked with Dickens arm-in-arm into the dining room… And when he learned that one of his pieces received a negative review, he hurled himself down on the Dickens family lawn and passionately wept.”
- Charles Dickens really, really hated his fanboy Hans Christian Andersen.
also, Hans to his big crush1 Edvard Collin after Collin married someone else2 is probably my favorite flounce in history:
“Why do you call me your ‘worthy friend?’ I don’t want to be worthy! That is the most insipid, boring word you could use. Any fool can be called worthy!... I have hotter blood than you and half of Copenhagen.”
the other half of Copenhagen is presumably watching the fish doorbell while waiting longingly for his attention to drift towards them
“I long for you as though you were a beautiful Calabrian girl.”
that said, Edvard Collin and his wife later agreed to be buried with him. but supposedly they remained just friends. just two guys and a gal who were pals. okay.