A THOUSAND WORDS - Alex Waterhouse-Hayward's blog on pictures, plants, politics and whatever else is on his mind.




 

The Demographics Have Changed
Saturday, November 22, 2014

Elizabeth Taylor - Raintree County 1957 - Queen of the Silver Screen by Ian Lloyd


Today is December 8, 2014 and I find myself noting that I am missing blogs for November 22 and then December 1m 2, 4, 5, 6, and 7. I don’t think I have ever fallen behind on my daily ritual, one that I obeyed since January 2006. I will post this for November 21. It is nice to go back in time without the proper machine!

There could be several reasons. One could be the decaying November to December weather and the dark days, that become so earlier in the day.

Another could be the presence of my 17 year-old granddaughter who has been living with us now for seven weeks. That has been tough. As a younger man in his 40s I could handle (almost) my teenage daughters but at my age now this is a different game of cricket.

While I do not accept comments in my blog I do feel these days like my blog is a message inserted in a bottle as I live in a barren island far away from civilization.

I get weekly reports from Twitter advising me of my more popular tweets (links to my blogs but including a photograph). Consider that a blog may have been seen by 900 people. That may sound just fine until you check on the second statistic that informs me that four or five people then clicked on to the link to the blog.

My Christmas gift budget is zero. It has to be on the money I get from my Canada Pension. I went to the Burnaby Public Library today. They had a withdrawn book sale. I purchased (all large and pristine picture books) on Elizabeth Taylor, Katherine Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe (the Niagara photos) and two huge picture books of wonderfully photographed diverse creatures in a studio and the other of snakes in jet black backgrounds. The books were three for $0.35 or one for $0.15. I had just enough money, change in my pocket and an empty wallet, to buy those books and I had to let go of the Monet Garden one for lack of more coin. I talked to the two librarians sitting behind a semi-circular desk in what is a most imposingly modern and large Metrotown branch. They told me (in obviously politically correct euphemism) that the demographic had changed. That the books I had found for a song had been originally purchased for “special” reasons (whatever that is) and that since they had not been regularly checked out they had to go.

I have long trashed an email communication from the present head of the Vancouver Public Library who wrote that the VPL is not an archive repository of books. The books there are active and alive and have to be read. If not they end up in book bins. One of the staffers in my Oakridge Public Library has told me that many books have been thrown in garbage dumpers. She has actually done part of that work.

With books purchased for a song, with dark rainy days, and with a brooding teenager at home, my melancholy prevents me (at least it is a good excuse) from contributing with regularity to this blog. As the days get brighter with the Christmas season perhaps I will change my attitude.



There Looks Very Much Like Here
Friday, November 21, 2014


A panoramic view of the surface of Mars from the Curiosity rover. Mt. sharp can be seen in the distance.


Few now are old enough to remember what it what it was like before globalization. Or perhaps they do remember but do not want to dwell on it. Dwelling on it can be uncomfortable.

I remember the first time I had American lime Jell-O in Buenos Aires when I was 8. It was ambrosia (not that I knew of that word then). It did not taste at all like the local stuff which I think may have been Royal.

Just a bit older I was mandated by my mother to put on Argentine-made blue jeans and go with them to the American Grammar School where I was the impoverished student who did not pay the high tuition because my mother taught at the American High School. My fellow classmates wore Levis or Lees. When you folded up the cuffs of my ratty Argentine jeans they did not have that elegant seem found in the American brands.

The rich American kids all somehow chewed Bazooka or Double Bubble. Argentines had yet to imitate American bubble gum.

When somehow my mother gave me (I have no idea where she purchased them) a pair of Texan-made cowboy boots with brass spurs (fake but the jangled beautifully) I was almost proud. I could hide the ugly seems of my jeans inside the boots.

My father, who besides being a journalist for the Buenos Aires Herald worked as the translator to the new Indian Embassy invited his embassy friends for curry (!!) at home the gentlemen, very black they were and some wore exotic turbans, showed up in a Hillman Minx. Nobody in my neighbourhood has ever seen such a car. It became more wonderfully strange when one of my mother’s friends (she worked at the American Embassy) visited us in a brand-new powder-blue Ford I was in jealousy heaven (my street friends, I mean). But this was topped twice after. 


Michael Collins  - Earthrise Over Smyth's Sea


My “girlfriend” Susan Stone whose father was the General Manager for GM in Argentina would send a chauffeured Cadillac to pick me up so I could play at her house. It was there where I saw my first in-the-flesh television set. The Filipino Minister to the Filipino Ministry (not yet and embassy but bigger than a consulate), Narciso Ramos had a liking for me. He showed up one day with his son Fidel (in West Point Cadet uniform and one day became President of the Philippines) in his dark blue 1950 Lincoln and the three of us went to a Harlem Globe Trotters game at Luna Park.

When my mother told me that we were going to move to Mexico (even in Spanish I pronounced that with the English sounding X) it was as if we were going to a place that was most exotic (and it was). She spoke of volcanoes and tortillas (until then Spanish omelets).

Even when we arrived in Mexico everything had its place in maps. Some of the illustrated world maps (particularly the American ones) showed a sleeping Mexican with a sombrero resting (how could Americans not know about the thorns) on a cactus. Filipino women under conical hats planted rice, gauchos rode the plains of Argentina, cowboys, and sometimes Indians, in the USA and the most endearing man in short leather pants with suspenders, a feather in his cap, smiled over Germany.

In my world German cameras were the best and the Japanese made poor copies. In my world Chryslers had powerful engines with innovative push-button transmissions while I could not figure out how to pronounce Peugeot.

But soon enough I found myself, with my wife and two daughters in Vancouver and I was hit by the strangeness of Mexican looking Canadian Indians (that’s what they were in 1975) who did not understand Spanish. They also did not seem to have red skin.

An Argentine nephew of mine in the late 80s asked me how I could tell the difference between the Chinese and the Japanese. In our times the only Japanese person residing in Buenos Aires was a man called Matsumoto. The Chinese were nowhere to be seen. Alberto Fujimori, the Japanese President of Peru, in the 90s was called El Chinito (the little Chinese Man).

I told my nephew that it was easy to tell the difference between the Japanese and the Chinese. And when there was doubt, usually the person in question was Korean.

It was in the mid 70s that I first saw a Russian car. I stopped to look at it as if had recently landed from Jupiter. The metal seemed different in my eyes. I was proud of my first real camera which I purchased for $100 in 1958. It was and is a Pentacon-F made in Dresden. Embossed in the leather bottom is: Made in Russian Occupied Germany.

Globalization has evened the playing field with the exception that the rich are still there (but richer) and the poor are still there (but poorer). Coffee at a Mexican MacDonald’s will taste as terribly as one in Vancouver or in Peking (sorry, Beijing).

My first moment of feeling I belonged to this strange changing world happened, strangely not when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon on July 21st, 1969, but years later when I first saw that photograph of earthrise over the moon taken by astronaut Michael Collins. For the first time and many times after that first time, I looked at the image and said to myself, “We, are all, from there as seen by three of us from here.” That was the moment for me when we became really globalized.

Now  can look at a most recent photograph of Mars taken by the Curiosity rover and it looks just like here and it is difficult for me to conjure that feeling of not feeling I am not from there but from here. You see there looks very much like here. 

28 months on Mars



Shall We Have A Drink First Or Shall We Go Right To Bed?
Thursday, November 20, 2014


"I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking.”
 Goodbye to Berlin - Christopher Isherwood

"Shall we have a drink first or shall we go right to bed?"
Sally Bowles (Julie Harris) to Christopher Isherwood (Laurence Harvey) in I Am A Camera


 
Miss Mew


My grandmother used to often say this of people who put foot in mouth.

La ignorancia es atrevida. Ignorance is daring.
Or:
Asomó el rabo. He showed his tail.

The latter remark had to do with the fact that my Roman Catholic grandmother had been born in Catholic Spain in the 19th century and people then made comments related to Darwin and that mankind had apes as ancestors.

The above is but a gentle reminder to me that at age 72 I still live and learn. The learning bit seems to be quickening as the more I read and the more I see, the more I know how little I know.I had never heard of the film I Am a Camera and for reasons that escape me, little of what I read about author Christopher Isherwood in my NY Times stuck in my memory. I Am a Camera came into my consciousness (sort of randomly) while reading Pauline Kael - 5001 Nights at the Movies while sitting where "el rey va solo."

I Am a Camera is a 1955 film directed by Henry Cornelius starring Laurence Harvey, Julie Harris, Shelley Winters and Anton Diffring. No film with Julie Harris can ever not be good. It is a change to see the aristocratic Diffring play a repressed Jewish man when he later appeared mostly as scary Nazi officers in American war films.

There is only one copy of I Am a Camera in Vancouver that I know of. It is currently at home rented to me by Limelight Video on Broadway and Blanca. It is a VHS tape so I have my now most useful RCA cables connecting my recently brought-back-from-basement- retirement VHS machine to my Sony Trinitron TV.

Of the film my friend John Lekich (who has never seen it) told me that when the Broadway play (also with Julie Harris) premiered in 1951 noted American theatre critic Walter Kerr said of the production directed by John Van Druten. “Me no Leica.

The film was entertaining, funny (and best of all it did not have Joel Gray in it. If you wonder why; just look it up.) It managed to only hint of Christopher Isherwood’s (played by big -haired Laurence Harvey) sexuality when Harvey says, “I am not the marrying kind.” British censors in 1955 must have been draconian.

There is a tiny twisty connection for me that came to mind when I finished seeing I Am a Camera. In the late 80s Les Wiseman and I would sometimes skip warm-up acts at the Commodore concerts when the bands were bad or not sophisticated enough for sophisticated rock music critic Wiseman. We would walk around the corner to our favourite cheap beer hangout, the Dufferin at the Dufferin Hotel. It had second-tier exotic dancers who in our opinion were surprisingly inventive to compensate for perceived lacked charms. One of the waiters looked exactly like Laurence Harvey. He must have known this as he cultivated that big hair protruding over his forehead.  

One such day, the warm-up band was terrible. We left the Commodore and we ran into our favourite exotic, Miss Mew who was the only dancer in town who included the music of Lou Reed in her act. She asked us where we were going. We answered. She said, “It’s changed.”

We sat down and ordered our beer. The Harvey waiter was not in evidence. I then told Wiseman, “There are quite a few men here who are holding hands.” Wiseman noted, finished his beer and said, “Let’s go.” We never returned and I believe neither did the dancers. The Dufferin, indeed had changed.

I never did see a waiter at the Dufferin with Nordic good-looks who might have played a Nazi officer in an American war film.



St. Joan of Arc, Big Macs & Meg Roe
Wednesday, November 19, 2014


St. Joan of Arc: Shall I arise from the dead and come back to you, a living woman?

Warwick: Rome made you a saint, we had no hand in the business. Let Rome decide.
Cauchon: Stay where you are, woman. A dead saint is always safer for the Church than a living one...

 
Meg Roe

There are some people who go to Macdonald’s and yet cannot abide the Big Macs. They might tell you that they go for the fries. And I cannot fault them.

In the same way you may not want to spend the money to go to the theatre. You might be persuaded to do so only if the play is an experimental one or at the opposite extreme one that is tried and true. You might then want to go to see It’s a Wonderful Life this season. As far as I know if that is your decision you will be out of luck.

On the other hand you might want to go to see a play that is rarely performed. Such a play is George Bernard Shaw’s St. Joan. and Arts Club Theatre Company presentation at the Stanley. Should you want to see the 1957 film version directed by Otto Preminger, starring Jean Seberg your only game in town is a VHS recording at Limelight Video on Broadway and Alma. Not even the Vancouver Public Library has it.         

St. Joan, starring Meg Roe and a long cast of who’s who Vancouver thespians is having a few more performances until this Sunday, November 23. There is a matinee this Saturday at 2 plus an evening performance and a matinee on Sunday.

Why am I telling you this?

For many years writer Les Wiseman and I would go to rock concerts at the Commodore (Wiseman had a Vancouver Magazine column called In One Ear to which I contributed as a photographer). Because we were snobs we would sometimes go to see the excellent warm-up act and then skip (over a beer) the headliners.

You might not be religious and not interested in plays with a religious content. You might have all kinds of other excuses not to see St. Joan but as Wiseman always told me, paraphrasing Hunter S. Thompson, “As your attorney I strongly suggest you see this.” Wiseman was always right.

My reason for suggesting St. Joan is simply that you want to watch a virtuoso acting performance which will be remembered for many years.




PBO, Curtis Daily, Patricia Hutter & Two Basses On A Date
Tuesday, November 18, 2014



The Pacific Baroque Orchestra is presenting this program on Friday November 28 and on Sunday November 30.

Curtis Daily in my garden

A curious fact is that perhaps because the program includes two composers (besides that of 17th century Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber von Bibern) of the late 18th century, Luigi Boccherini and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart a rare instrument and its owner are traveling from Portland to play in it. Curtis Daily and his baroque bass are both participants and members of the Portland Baroque Orchestra. Those who know will tell you that since the orchestra is headed by violinist Monica Huggett, the standards of the orchestra are as high as they come. If anything that also tells you that the demands of Pacific Baroque Orchestra Musical Director and virtuoso harpshichordist, Alexander Weimann are as high. Daily is also a member of the Seattle Baroque Orchestra


Patricia Hutter & Nicolo

Interesting too is that Daily and his bass have a date on Athlone Street, Saturday November 29 at 12:30 PM with my near neighbour Patricia Hutter (formerly a bass player for the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra) and her Italian bass called Nicolo.

Of his bass Daily wrote me this:

Just a thought for Alex, I would really like to take some photos of both of the old Italian basses when we visit Patricia.

My bass was made in Venice, Italy, circa 1770, so it's pretty old now, but probably not as old as Patricia's. My bass was most likely commissioned from the shop whose name is associated with it, Ignacio Ongaro (one of the big violin shops in Venice at the time), by a school or church. Its dimensions were probably roughed out by a boy, then finished up by somebody that knew what they were doing. I can show you the tool marks where the apprentice went too far.

The bass was still in Venice in 1906, which I know because of a repair label inside it from a well known Venetian maker, dated 1906 for repairs that he had made to it. At some point after that it made it's way to Oakland California in the Italian 20th century Italian migration; likely in pieces because that would be simpler given the horrible conditions that many of them travelled to the US in. The person I bought it from found it in a violin shop in Oakland in the early 60s in pieces. He bought it and eventually had it restored. He was the principal bassist in the San Francisco Symphony for many years, and has just in the last decade retired.

I am looking forward to perhaps finding ou, when Daily, Hutter and the two basses meet, if Daily has a name for his Venetian instrument. And perhaps, too, he might explain to me the difference (if there is one) between a baroque bass and a violone. 



Hilary & A Gray Card At The Manhattan
Monday, November 17, 2014

Hilary Waterhouse-Hayward, 6, UBC - Marine Drive 1977


One of the toughest jobs, one that I can do only on my own is to file my photographs and negatives. Some of them defy filing unless I had an easy to install computer cross-referencing program. 

 As an example I found an envelope that said ferry from Saltspring, Noblex, May 2013. I took these pictures using my swivel lens panoramic camera which produces very wide images 2¾ x 7 inches in size. I finally decided to file them under an existing folder labelled BC Ferries. I asked Rosemary, “When I am dead will you know where to look? BC, or British or ferry?”

All this comes to mind in the heels of the death of Pat Quinn who had an accelerated heart rhythm like yours truly and was one year younger that I was.

On a more positive approach I found a negative sleeve with colour negatives that I took in 1977. At the time I was attempting to learn how to print colour negatives. In order to print them, one of the better methods was to have Kodak gray card in one of the exposures as a reference. The idea was to print that negative and make the gray in the card gray. Then colours such as flesh tones (always tricky) would fall into place. The problem with these particular negatives is that the film stock (colour negative) similar to motion picture film stock is highly unstable with time. Since these negatives are 37 years old there are shifts in the different layers of the negative. You might note that in the shadows my 6 year-old daughter Hilary’s limbs are purple. To make them less so I must add yellow. But if I add yellow… Compounding the problem, the light in the shade of the Manhattan Apartments on Thurlow and Robson was blue (shade is almost always blue) or that the light in Stanley park in the fall was a mixture of green and yellow.

In spite of it all I like these pictures and here they are for anybody to enjoy.

The Manhattan had yet to be “restored” or “fixed up”. Inside most of the apartments were in perfect disrepair. And yet I believe that when the building was indeed renovated some of the additions destroyed its look. The photographs of Hilary there suffer a bit from the fact that I was, at the time, fiddling with a new 28mm wide angle.



Hilary in Stanley Park








Alexandra, Gaticuchi & Hilary




Microcosmos Quartet, Béla Bartók & Tom Cone's Laughing Ghost
Sunday, November 16, 2014



 
Tom Cone - 1947 - 2012

Béla Bartók wrote six string quartets. His fifth he composed in 1934. Eighty years later I heard it for the first time with a laughing ghost over my shoulder.

Thanks to (because might be a better choice of word) the Microcosmos String Quartet headed by Marc Destrubé on violin, Andrea Siradze, violin, Rebecca Windham, cello and Tawnya Popoff on viola, I found this work uncommonly lyrical. How is this possible?

Perhaps it has to do with the fact that for the last year I have heard Bartók’s first four quartets, more than once in concerts held in pleasant surroundings, homes of music lovers, all performed by the Microcosmos Quartet. With those Bartok compositions I have also listened to all (three) of Benjamin Britten’s string quartets.


With the 20th century over ever so most definitely it was about time I was exposed to this kind of music. It is the purpose and goal of Microcosmos (info on the reason for this name here) to promote this kind of music that is so underplayed which has been at the same time so influential. I sometimes think that Bartók is in the same camp of notoriety/fame as Noam Chomsky. People know who he is but you can never pin them down in being able to explain them.

Destrubé has helped us the frequent concert goers to his quartet Bartók concerts to humanize and soften the man. One story is that Bartók’s son Peter watched his father go into his study, where he worked on his compositions, and close the door. Minutes later he heard his father repeatedly laughing.

Sitting barely five feet away from the quartet in this last nicely sunny afternoon I knew that the surroundings of the house were familiar. Indeed I was in the house of Karen Matthews, who was the partner of Vancouver playwright and librettist Tom Cone. Everything in the house nicely smacked of an interest in good books, design and art. In fact we were informed that many concerts of new music have been played there.

Behind me there was a nice young man with a smile on his face. The nice young man, Thomas Weideman, born in 1992, was there to listen with us to the premiere (East Vancouver premiere, that is) of his 2014 work changing at the same time.

Between R. Murray Schafer’s 1970 String Quartet No. 1 and Bartók’s lyrical (at times!) String Quartet No. 5 we heard the quartet play, purely on their instrument’s harmonics, Weideman’s soft and pleasing (a palate cleanser, Destrubé called it) piece.

Interesting to us, since Destrubé always explains the facts and the story behind the works his quartet plays, was learning that while most composers’ quartets put an effort to bring together those two violins, viola and cello, Schafer had done the opposite! The musicians all tried to escape one of a time from the constraints of the composition. 


If you add to the warm surroundings with pleasant people the idea that a laughing ghost was present it all added to a fine musical Sunday in which I can now attest that should I hear any of those first five Bartók quartets in a recording or on the radio I just might be able to identify that so serious Hungarian.






     

Previous Posts
Abraham Darby - Three Men & an Over the Top Rose

Doctor Pat McGeer - The Basketball Player

The State of Being Alone

Red

Grace & Elegance

I hoed and trenched and weeded

Performances That Have Melted Into Thin Air

Love Is Doing - Rosemary Does

Resistentialism & Free Will

La Belle Sultane



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11/8/09 - 11/15/09

11/15/09 - 11/22/09

11/22/09 - 11/29/09

11/29/09 - 12/6/09

12/6/09 - 12/13/09

12/13/09 - 12/20/09

12/20/09 - 12/27/09

12/27/09 - 1/3/10

1/3/10 - 1/10/10

1/10/10 - 1/17/10

1/17/10 - 1/24/10

1/24/10 - 1/31/10

1/31/10 - 2/7/10

2/7/10 - 2/14/10

2/14/10 - 2/21/10

2/21/10 - 2/28/10

2/28/10 - 3/7/10

3/7/10 - 3/14/10

3/14/10 - 3/21/10

3/21/10 - 3/28/10

3/28/10 - 4/4/10

4/4/10 - 4/11/10

4/11/10 - 4/18/10

4/18/10 - 4/25/10

4/25/10 - 5/2/10

5/2/10 - 5/9/10

5/9/10 - 5/16/10

5/16/10 - 5/23/10

5/23/10 - 5/30/10

5/30/10 - 6/6/10

6/6/10 - 6/13/10

6/13/10 - 6/20/10

6/20/10 - 6/27/10

6/27/10 - 7/4/10

7/4/10 - 7/11/10

7/11/10 - 7/18/10

7/18/10 - 7/25/10

7/25/10 - 8/1/10

8/1/10 - 8/8/10

8/8/10 - 8/15/10

8/15/10 - 8/22/10

8/22/10 - 8/29/10

8/29/10 - 9/5/10

9/5/10 - 9/12/10

9/12/10 - 9/19/10

9/19/10 - 9/26/10

9/26/10 - 10/3/10

10/3/10 - 10/10/10

10/10/10 - 10/17/10

10/17/10 - 10/24/10

10/24/10 - 10/31/10

10/31/10 - 11/7/10

11/7/10 - 11/14/10

11/14/10 - 11/21/10

11/21/10 - 11/28/10

11/28/10 - 12/5/10

12/5/10 - 12/12/10

12/12/10 - 12/19/10

12/19/10 - 12/26/10

12/26/10 - 1/2/11

1/2/11 - 1/9/11

1/9/11 - 1/16/11

1/16/11 - 1/23/11

1/23/11 - 1/30/11

1/30/11 - 2/6/11

2/6/11 - 2/13/11

2/13/11 - 2/20/11

2/20/11 - 2/27/11

2/27/11 - 3/6/11

3/6/11 - 3/13/11

3/13/11 - 3/20/11

3/20/11 - 3/27/11

3/27/11 - 4/3/11

4/3/11 - 4/10/11

4/10/11 - 4/17/11

4/17/11 - 4/24/11

4/24/11 - 5/1/11

5/1/11 - 5/8/11

5/8/11 - 5/15/11

5/15/11 - 5/22/11

5/22/11 - 5/29/11

5/29/11 - 6/5/11

6/5/11 - 6/12/11

6/12/11 - 6/19/11

6/19/11 - 6/26/11

6/26/11 - 7/3/11

7/3/11 - 7/10/11

7/10/11 - 7/17/11

7/17/11 - 7/24/11

7/24/11 - 7/31/11

7/31/11 - 8/7/11

8/7/11 - 8/14/11

8/14/11 - 8/21/11

8/21/11 - 8/28/11

8/28/11 - 9/4/11

9/4/11 - 9/11/11

9/11/11 - 9/18/11

9/18/11 - 9/25/11

9/25/11 - 10/2/11

10/2/11 - 10/9/11

10/9/11 - 10/16/11

10/16/11 - 10/23/11

10/23/11 - 10/30/11

10/30/11 - 11/6/11

11/6/11 - 11/13/11

11/13/11 - 11/20/11

11/20/11 - 11/27/11

11/27/11 - 12/4/11

12/4/11 - 12/11/11

12/11/11 - 12/18/11

12/18/11 - 12/25/11

12/25/11 - 1/1/12

1/1/12 - 1/8/12

1/8/12 - 1/15/12

1/15/12 - 1/22/12

1/22/12 - 1/29/12

1/29/12 - 2/5/12

2/5/12 - 2/12/12

2/12/12 - 2/19/12

2/19/12 - 2/26/12

2/26/12 - 3/4/12

3/4/12 - 3/11/12

3/11/12 - 3/18/12

3/18/12 - 3/25/12

3/25/12 - 4/1/12

4/1/12 - 4/8/12

4/8/12 - 4/15/12

4/15/12 - 4/22/12

4/22/12 - 4/29/12

4/29/12 - 5/6/12

5/6/12 - 5/13/12

5/13/12 - 5/20/12

5/20/12 - 5/27/12

5/27/12 - 6/3/12

6/3/12 - 6/10/12

6/10/12 - 6/17/12

6/17/12 - 6/24/12

6/24/12 - 7/1/12

7/1/12 - 7/8/12

7/8/12 - 7/15/12

7/15/12 - 7/22/12

7/22/12 - 7/29/12

7/29/12 - 8/5/12

8/5/12 - 8/12/12

8/12/12 - 8/19/12

8/19/12 - 8/26/12

8/26/12 - 9/2/12

9/2/12 - 9/9/12

9/9/12 - 9/16/12

9/16/12 - 9/23/12

9/23/12 - 9/30/12

9/30/12 - 10/7/12

10/7/12 - 10/14/12

10/14/12 - 10/21/12

10/21/12 - 10/28/12

10/28/12 - 11/4/12

11/4/12 - 11/11/12

11/11/12 - 11/18/12

11/18/12 - 11/25/12

11/25/12 - 12/2/12

12/2/12 - 12/9/12

12/9/12 - 12/16/12

12/16/12 - 12/23/12

12/23/12 - 12/30/12

12/30/12 - 1/6/13

1/6/13 - 1/13/13

1/13/13 - 1/20/13

1/20/13 - 1/27/13

1/27/13 - 2/3/13

2/3/13 - 2/10/13

2/10/13 - 2/17/13

2/17/13 - 2/24/13

2/24/13 - 3/3/13

3/3/13 - 3/10/13

3/10/13 - 3/17/13

3/17/13 - 3/24/13

3/24/13 - 3/31/13

3/31/13 - 4/7/13

4/7/13 - 4/14/13

4/14/13 - 4/21/13

4/21/13 - 4/28/13

4/28/13 - 5/5/13

5/5/13 - 5/12/13

5/12/13 - 5/19/13

5/19/13 - 5/26/13

5/26/13 - 6/2/13

6/2/13 - 6/9/13

6/9/13 - 6/16/13

6/16/13 - 6/23/13

6/23/13 - 6/30/13

6/30/13 - 7/7/13

7/7/13 - 7/14/13

7/14/13 - 7/21/13

7/21/13 - 7/28/13

7/28/13 - 8/4/13

8/4/13 - 8/11/13

8/11/13 - 8/18/13

8/18/13 - 8/25/13

8/25/13 - 9/1/13

9/1/13 - 9/8/13

9/8/13 - 9/15/13

9/15/13 - 9/22/13

9/22/13 - 9/29/13

9/29/13 - 10/6/13

10/6/13 - 10/13/13

10/13/13 - 10/20/13

10/20/13 - 10/27/13

10/27/13 - 11/3/13

11/3/13 - 11/10/13

11/10/13 - 11/17/13

11/17/13 - 11/24/13

11/24/13 - 12/1/13

12/1/13 - 12/8/13

12/8/13 - 12/15/13

12/15/13 - 12/22/13

12/22/13 - 12/29/13

12/29/13 - 1/5/14

1/5/14 - 1/12/14

1/12/14 - 1/19/14

1/19/14 - 1/26/14

1/26/14 - 2/2/14

2/2/14 - 2/9/14

2/9/14 - 2/16/14

2/16/14 - 2/23/14

2/23/14 - 3/2/14

3/2/14 - 3/9/14

3/9/14 - 3/16/14

3/16/14 - 3/23/14

3/23/14 - 3/30/14

3/30/14 - 4/6/14

4/6/14 - 4/13/14

4/13/14 - 4/20/14

4/20/14 - 4/27/14

4/27/14 - 5/4/14

5/4/14 - 5/11/14

5/11/14 - 5/18/14

5/18/14 - 5/25/14

5/25/14 - 6/1/14

6/1/14 - 6/8/14

6/8/14 - 6/15/14

6/15/14 - 6/22/14

6/22/14 - 6/29/14

6/29/14 - 7/6/14

7/6/14 - 7/13/14

7/13/14 - 7/20/14

7/20/14 - 7/27/14

7/27/14 - 8/3/14

8/3/14 - 8/10/14

8/10/14 - 8/17/14

8/17/14 - 8/24/14

8/24/14 - 8/31/14

8/31/14 - 9/7/14

9/7/14 - 9/14/14

9/14/14 - 9/21/14

9/21/14 - 9/28/14

9/28/14 - 10/5/14

10/5/14 - 10/12/14

10/12/14 - 10/19/14

10/19/14 - 10/26/14

10/26/14 - 11/2/14

11/2/14 - 11/9/14

11/9/14 - 11/16/14

11/16/14 - 11/23/14

11/23/14 - 11/30/14

11/30/14 - 12/7/14

12/7/14 - 12/14/14

12/14/14 - 12/21/14

12/21/14 - 12/28/14

12/28/14 - 1/4/15

1/4/15 - 1/11/15

1/11/15 - 1/18/15

1/18/15 - 1/25/15

1/25/15 - 2/1/15

2/1/15 - 2/8/15

2/8/15 - 2/15/15

2/15/15 - 2/22/15

2/22/15 - 3/1/15

3/1/15 - 3/8/15

3/8/15 - 3/15/15

3/15/15 - 3/22/15

3/22/15 - 3/29/15

3/29/15 - 4/5/15

4/5/15 - 4/12/15

4/12/15 - 4/19/15

4/19/15 - 4/26/15

4/26/15 - 5/3/15

5/3/15 - 5/10/15

5/10/15 - 5/17/15

5/17/15 - 5/24/15

5/24/15 - 5/31/15

5/31/15 - 6/7/15

6/7/15 - 6/14/15

6/14/15 - 6/21/15

6/21/15 - 6/28/15

6/28/15 - 7/5/15

7/5/15 - 7/12/15

7/12/15 - 7/19/15

7/19/15 - 7/26/15

7/26/15 - 8/2/15

8/2/15 - 8/9/15

8/9/15 - 8/16/15

8/16/15 - 8/23/15

8/23/15 - 8/30/15

8/30/15 - 9/6/15

9/6/15 - 9/13/15

9/13/15 - 9/20/15

9/20/15 - 9/27/15

9/27/15 - 10/4/15

10/4/15 - 10/11/15

10/18/15 - 10/25/15

10/25/15 - 11/1/15

11/1/15 - 11/8/15

11/8/15 - 11/15/15

11/15/15 - 11/22/15

11/22/15 - 11/29/15

11/29/15 - 12/6/15

12/6/15 - 12/13/15

12/13/15 - 12/20/15

12/20/15 - 12/27/15

12/27/15 - 1/3/16

1/3/16 - 1/10/16

1/10/16 - 1/17/16

1/31/16 - 2/7/16

2/7/16 - 2/14/16

2/14/16 - 2/21/16

2/21/16 - 2/28/16

2/28/16 - 3/6/16

3/6/16 - 3/13/16

3/13/16 - 3/20/16

3/20/16 - 3/27/16

3/27/16 - 4/3/16

4/3/16 - 4/10/16

4/10/16 - 4/17/16

4/17/16 - 4/24/16

4/24/16 - 5/1/16

5/1/16 - 5/8/16

5/8/16 - 5/15/16

5/15/16 - 5/22/16

5/22/16 - 5/29/16

5/29/16 - 6/5/16

6/5/16 - 6/12/16

6/12/16 - 6/19/16

6/19/16 - 6/26/16

6/26/16 - 7/3/16

7/3/16 - 7/10/16

7/10/16 - 7/17/16

7/17/16 - 7/24/16

7/24/16 - 7/31/16

7/31/16 - 8/7/16

8/7/16 - 8/14/16

8/14/16 - 8/21/16

8/21/16 - 8/28/16

8/28/16 - 9/4/16

9/4/16 - 9/11/16

9/11/16 - 9/18/16

9/18/16 - 9/25/16

9/25/16 - 10/2/16

10/2/16 - 10/9/16

10/9/16 - 10/16/16

10/16/16 - 10/23/16

10/23/16 - 10/30/16

10/30/16 - 11/6/16

11/6/16 - 11/13/16

11/13/16 - 11/20/16

11/20/16 - 11/27/16

11/27/16 - 12/4/16

12/4/16 - 12/11/16

12/11/16 - 12/18/16

12/18/16 - 12/25/16

12/25/16 - 1/1/17

1/1/17 - 1/8/17

1/8/17 - 1/15/17

1/15/17 - 1/22/17

1/22/17 - 1/29/17

1/29/17 - 2/5/17

2/5/17 - 2/12/17

2/12/17 - 2/19/17

2/19/17 - 2/26/17

2/26/17 - 3/5/17

3/5/17 - 3/12/17

3/12/17 - 3/19/17

3/19/17 - 3/26/17

3/26/17 - 4/2/17

4/2/17 - 4/9/17

4/9/17 - 4/16/17

4/16/17 - 4/23/17

4/23/17 - 4/30/17

4/30/17 - 5/7/17

5/7/17 - 5/14/17

5/14/17 - 5/21/17

5/21/17 - 5/28/17

5/28/17 - 6/4/17

6/4/17 - 6/11/17

6/11/17 - 6/18/17

6/18/17 - 6/25/17