Saturday, December 31, 2011

Cards and Roosevelt

Finished another biography of Theodore Roosevelt that concentrated on his time in North Dakota where he was a rancher and a Cowboy. After his first wife died, Roosevelt was grieving so prodigiously that he needed to get away and do something different. He bought a ranch in the Badlands and spent several years raising cattle and hunting. During this time he worked alongside the cattlemen, hunted game throughout the area, survived in the wilds, dealt with cold, with Indians, with thieves, with drought, and with the harshness and beauty of the outdoors. He toughened his body and in effect trained for his future as a tough, no nonsense kind of President. Roosevelt's fearless approach to leadership characterized his life in everything he did.

I do not necessarily agree with everything TR did and often wrestle with the conservation excesses, plus the issues related to trust busting, but my respect for him remains considerable. His hunting prowess is well-documented and rather confusing when we think about how he would shoot an endangered animal to add to his collection at home or in museums. It was as though his love and respect for nature found the greatest expression in conquering everything that nature represented. I suppose I can understand this concept a little. If one respects something or someone, then the best way to demonstrate that is to control it and to exert power over it. But even as I write the words, they seem flawed and empty. To respect something is to give it freedom and allow it to become its own entity and force. Maybe there is simply a balance somewhere in the midst of this discussion about respect.

Is it possible today to become Theodore Roosevelt? I don't really think so. Hunting regulations are very strict and nobody is allowed to hunt unlimited deer, elk, bear, antelope, or certainly not bison. I suppose someone could find a wilderness and live for several weeks off of the land to include berries, rabbits, birds, etc., but I have to wonder if doing so would break some kind of government regulation. In addition, the isolation required would be nearly impossible in our fully connected world. Could I live for a month without a cell phone, internet connection, human contact? It would be tough for sure.

But we do have ways today to toughen ourselves and strike out independently. Athletic training is one great way. Hunting, although heavily regulated, is still allowed. I have friends who ride horses and punch cattle on the side. In spite of our connected and overly regulated world, there is still opportunity for each of us to improve ourselves in many ways. That is one reason I try to do something physical nearly every day, such as running, walking, lifting something, or working outdoors. Far from being TR, I still find great satisfaction in the effort.

Talking about connectivity, I am truly frustrated with the darn cards that stores expect us to produce when we purchase something. I despise the question and further abhor having to search for some stupid rewards or plus or advantage card in order to get a coupon or a reduced price. It is all a beguiling trick to invade our personal lives and use that information against us in some way. But cashiers won't let it go. If I say "no I do not have a card," they will follow with "how about a phone number?" It is beyond annoyance and invasive. Recognizing the store is simply trying to track purchases and ultimately provide those products most bought by consumers, I still feel like my rights and privileges to buy what I want to buy are being eroded by the digital world of consumer tracking. The next step is to come in our homes, study our accounts, and tell us what we need.

And they convince us to use their card by giving us discounts for certain items so we are excited to save 17 cents or in the case of a large purchase, $3.50. Then they give us a sweet smile and say "You have saved 53 cents today!" The other day at J.C. Penney, I saved $60 by choosing items on sale. She informed me of that and I felt my heart soar with positive affirmation at my amazing shopping ability to save that much money. But I started thinking about it. Did that "savings" really improve my life? Was I really a good shopper by saving that much money? Or the bigger question, "What was the markup anyway?" Did J.C. Penney lose money due to my wise shopping ability? Of course not. In fact, why not put a price tag of $10,000 on a shirt and then mark it down to $19.99. That way the sweet lady could say, "You have saved $9,980.01. today!" Boy, you talk about a confidence booster, that is a lot of money. Why not advertise that everything in the store is $100,000 each but has been discounted down to $5.00. You talk about a tremendous sale!

Okay, I am getting ridiculous about this, but my point is that I do not enjoy having to produce a card in order to save a dollar or two. Just label the price of the item and let me decide whether to purchase it or not. Don't try to trick me with cards, sales, gimics, and mostly do not invade my privacy.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

You're the Top, Cole Porter

As a lover and student of musicals and Broadway shows, I am always seeking after something new, some new sound or approach to music for the stage. With the new sounds of today, replete with rock beats, synthesized technopop, and music to reach a younger generation, I often return to the past in spite of my desire for the new. After all, great melodies are still great melodies, and interesting harmony remains fresh even after multiple hearings. Maintaining that for art to survive the test of time, it must reach beyond the simple and into the creative, I often find myself returning to the amazing songs of Cole Porter.

Trained as a classical musician and pianist, Cole Porter began writing songs at an early age. Not necessarily a prodigy but certainly displaying great genius throughout his life, Cole Porter wrote his own music and lyrics primarily for the theater. An up and down career that included as many failures as successes, Cole Porter's heritage is that of wonderfully clever songs and harmonic experimentation. He somehow overcame the many failures in his career to keep his name alive and his music authentic for today. In spite of his colorful lifestyle and lack of fidelity, he did remain paradoxically devoted to his wife who died several years before his own death at the age of 75. Able to separate my own rather judgmental principles from the quality of his work, I hold the music of Cole Porter in high regard for its complexity, its interest, its personal expression, and its blend of earthy and sophistication. This is music for the people and the many wonderful songs deserve a place among the finest in music theater.

Songs such as In the Still of the Night, Brush Up Your Shakespeare, Be a Clown, Let's Fall in Love, Blow Gabriel Blow, and So in Love stand out as meaningful, clever, intriguing, and energetic. Other songs such as Begin the Beguine, You're the Top, and Always True to You in My Fashion have charm and wit demonstrating how human foibles can become triumphs. Musically he used rhythm to make the text jump out and explode with meaning and he continually matched the inflections of the text with the punctuation of the music. Aside from the veiled sexual referencs found in many of his lyrics, his songs are fun and pleasing, capturing the shimmering glow of life in each phrase.

Why does a song like Night and Day continue to be a regular part of many professional singers repertoire? I believe it is due to the inside rhythmic energy, the text, and to the harmonic experimentation. Every time we hear it, we hear something new and it keeps our interest over a long period of time. Far from using three chords, Cole Porter moves in and out of the established key, leaving us breathless with anticipation over the next sound. With a free use of augmented chords, sevenths, ninths, and chromatic alteration, Night and Day moves at a fast harmonic pace that leaves no doubt that Cole Porter was the master of harmony. After an odd verse of repeated notes over strange chords, the chorus begins with a chord that is far removed from the key of Eb. The melody states a major 7 over the chord of B, followed by a Bb7 which then leads us nicely to the tonic. Rather than stating the obvious, Cole Porter uses the altered flat 6th of the key to move chromatically to the dominant in a kind of text painting of darkness moving to light. All great stuff and musically intriguing, making Night and Day a wonderful song for all time.

So my admiration for the music of Cole Porter reigns high as I continue to be a student of musicals. While Kiss Me Kate is not necessarily my favorite plot, I love the music from beginning to end. Anything Goes is another winner and both have enjoyed successful revivals recently. If you are looking for some great old songs, turn to Cole Porter. He is the top.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Kennedy Center awards

Neil Diamond, Barbara Cook, Meryl Streep, Sonny Rollins, and Yo-Yo Ma were honored at the Kennedy Center with music, film, some comedic moments and mostly lots of class. All were acknowledged as great in their field and all seemed deeply appreciative of the experience. The enthusiastic audience was treated to new performances of outstanding music, and I heard an eclectic blend of classical, pop, ethnic, and folk music and found myself drawn into the presentation. This event with its sheer variety and obvious excellence represents a turning point in how music is presented to the world. Entertaining and fun, complex and intelligent, emotionally expressive yet precise, the music was simply outstanding.

The market, like everything else, ultimately determines the taste of the people, and no matter how much government agencies work to interfere, it is the people who choose the music they prefer. And people seem to like variety ranging from rock to folk to classical and the freedom to experience and yes invoke ethnic styles within the sound. The internet, with youtube and with any kind of music at our fingertips, has opened up a world of musical possibilities for all of us. Not wanting to be labeled one particular kind of musician and seeking after other means of expression, we are beginning to see musicians pulling in other styles and then finding their own way.

While Neil Diamond did well singing his songs in the 70s, those old recordings sound a little dated to our ears now. But in spite of the anachronistic enjoyment of his performances, we recognize that the music itself is somewhat timeless. At the Kennedy awards, we heard more modern versions of Diamond's music and a strange but effective blend of rock, pop, and folk styles. It gave his music a fresh quality that keeps it alive. Add that to the choir that joined the instrumentalists and suddenly we found joy in the collective moment of lots of people singing Sweet Caroline!

Done with Diamond, the show moved over to Yo-Yo Ma, pointing out his prowess on the cello as a classical musician and then moving into a broad embracing of musical styles which first included Brahms, clips of Bach, a classical string quartet, then an odd folk ensemble with a ukele and an exotic instrument of which I was not certain. Obviously since this was a tribute to Yo-Yo Ma, they found many of his "friends" to do the performance. Yo-Yo Ma has never quit learning throughout his illustrious career that has led him all over the world to experience every form of music he can find. Jazz, blues, rock, pop, tribal, gamelan, Japanese, Chinese, and every imaginable folk sound ended up partnering with the great cellist. It was really just a kick all the way through and came together with a John Williams piece that incorporated a choir, string quartet, piano, several odd bagpipes, ukeles, and other unusual instruments. What a fun, musical experience and the audience responded with great zeal to the unusual but widely appealing sounds. I could not help but notice, however, the lukewarm response to the string quartet by several audience members!

Of course I have to laugh a little when I think back on the opening of Kennedy Center in 1971 with Bernstein's Mass. It was not what was expected nor even wanted with its wild use of street bands, blues, rock, drug references, children's choir, sophistication, and mostly eclectism in an attempt to embrace the complex world of religion and music. Not received well, the piece fell into a small cult-like following that continues today with people like me who love the work! When you ask Leonard Bernstein to compose something, you should be prepared for something different! Give him the freedom and you get the strength of his creativity. He certainly was an amazing musician.

But the topic is music of today. We heard a vast array of sounds that incorporated much more than classical or pop or folk or music from around the world. We heard it all and in a short period of time. We honored a rock/pop musician and a classical musician both of which crossed over to other styles in their careers. Perhaps their diversity and their inclusivity of a wide range of music are the elements that helped catapult them to such musical heights.

So why is it then that academia prefers and teaches classical music primarily? Why does the world in the broadest sense embrace the totality of music but in academic circles, we denounce the concept? Is it that the idea of inclusivity is too new, or perhaps it is too complex to address in curriculum? On the other hand, maybe we in academia like the idea of a small but appreciative audience for our music? There are no easy answers to these questions, but I am generally encouraged by the eclectism I hear and I am touched by the honoring of great performers of our time.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Christmas, Football, etc.

Christmas has come and gone, and unless you are one of those strict church calendar people adhering to all parts of the Advent season, it is time to take down the decorations and move forward. I got a little weary this year of the colors red and green, the ornaments, the packages, the lights, and constant Santas everywhere. But rather than becoming a Grinch about it all, I decided that the joy seen on people's faces blended with the pleasant conversation were worth the commercial excesses. People were generally nice this Christmas and it made me glad for the season. With a bold declamation I say to get rid of the meanies and let's make the attitude of Christmas last the whole year. After all, it is really about the birth of Jesus Christ and about the love he imparted during his brief time on earth.

Schlotzsky's has made a new marketing push lately and is emphasing the O in its name. On the side of the building I see a large, painted O that is complemented and further emphasized by the street sign that brings out the O in the word Schlotszky's. This is all fine and probably a good idea for the company. It gives the franchise a definition and a way for people to remember it as they drive by. This is not dissimilar to the golden arches of McDonalds or the star looking asterisk at Walmart or the little Wendy girl or the big red chili or the orange glow of Home Depot. We tend to reduce places and stores down to the essential visual representation and prolong that which we readily see and understand. When I see a large O, do I think of food at Schlotzkys? Maybe unconsciously I do. But what if acknowledgment of this truth is a little too self-deprecating. Is it possible that we as humans are quite predictable, a little too simplistic, and that we are being tricked into some kind of response to outward stimuli? If so, and I suspect it to be true, I am going to wage my own private personal battle against reacting to the chicanery that exists around me. No more burger thoughts for me when I see the arches, no more thinking about cheap items when I see the funny Walmart asterisk, and no more sandwich thoughts when I see a large O. Resist the norm, fight the typical, punch out the expected I say and don't let the marketers shape your emotions or your footsteps. I'll take the road less traveled and do the opposite from what "they" want. So there. I feel better already I think.

Watching a football game last night, I was once again disturbed by the bad, harsh and boring announcing I heard. Repetitive and predictable comments such as "I tell you what...this is a football game," or "If they will cause a three and out, then they can get the ball and drive down the field," or "He can stand in the pocket and throw downfield with the best," or "What a terrible call by the officials." I have decided that when it is all said and done, there is just not much you can say about the game. It is not really all that complicated. No matter how much money is spent, and how many commentators are placed on camera, or how many stats you can find, in the end football is just a game. Fun, exciting, energetic but just a game. Move the ball downfield and score. One team has the ball and one team doesn't. Let's play the game and stop trying to turn it into a world war requiring analysis of every little event.

Then as I was watching it, and incidentally enjoying the athletic skill of the players, I saw a player tackled from behind. He caught the ball but was hit hard by the defender and his back seemed to twist unnaturally into an obviously painful position. When he came down, he was hurt and helped off the field. Now I don't mean to sound like a wimp and I do think there are times for manly displays of strength and courage, but really is this worth it? We scream for them to hit hard but then worry when they do. We want to see the player tackled but cringe when he goes down. We are striving to care for the sick, the lame, and to live a refined life free of violence and destruction, but then we are willing to spend billions of dollars for a game that causes pain. I am not sure I understand this any longer.

This is not to say that I am innocent of such emotions, for I enjoy a good football game as much as anyone. I love to see a man run fast down the field and avoid the tackles. I enjoy a wonderful pass and I fear for the kicker trying to win the game with a field goal. But I do not appreciate the brutality I see and I do not understand how a refined society can accept a situation that inflicts pain on other people. Maybe this is why I find myself preferring baseball and basketball (although it can be rough as well) over football. Others need not share in my opinions but I do exercise my right to express them. Football is a fun game, but let's not let it rule our lives and may we never value the hurt it can cause others. When we embrace human suffering we have reduced ourselves to a low denominator not far from the primitivism of the past.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Mild Altercation

Relaxing in the motel lobby in Denton, Texas and eating a lame breakfast of yogurt, a bagel, and a cup of coffee, I witnessed an awkward altercation between two people. On the surface, the disagreement dealt with what to watch on the television while we were eating breakfast, but the underlying current was more politically motivated.

A moment for my feelings about television. I enjoy a good show occasionally and do find myself watching a good sports game at times. Rarely making it through an entire football game without falling asleep, I do think the opportunity to watch television is a luxury we all tend to take for granted. Getting to watch a show or a game that is taking place several thousand miles away is remarkable in many ways and something that did not occur for our grandparents many years ago. I also enjoy a good movie (nothing like Rio Bravo on a Saturday afternoon!) and do enjoy the old and the new Hawaii Five-O. Televsion is entertaining, relaxing, informative, and fun for everyone. But I must say that it really does not matter to me at all. If we had no television, I would be fine. In fact, part of me often wonders if the world would be better without television. If it is on, I am happy to watch it, but if not, I do not miss it. It is not a need for a meaningful life and has little bearing on anything other than some information and entertainment.

Back to the event. Much of what followed I missed and learned about later. Apparently an elderly man of around 75 asked a couple in the room if they would mind watching a different channel. We were watching CNN news and the elderly man wanted to see Fox News. The husband quickly and rather loudly said no which I did hear. In retrospect, I am wondering why I wasn't asked my opinion. Probably because I was working on the computer at the time and showed no interest in the television! Anyway, the man who refused to allow the change was about 50 plus and built like a tank. Very large with a military haircut and a physical confidence often associated with violent potential and battle experience. He was a bully, not unlike the kind we found on the playground many years ago. After the loud refusal, the elderly man politely said "okay, sorry to bother you."

The bully then proceeded to call him an idiot and said that he and people like him were ruining our country. I suppose he was referring to the desire for the elderly man to see Fox News rather than CNN. The bully stood up and followed the man back to his seat and proceeded to threaten him with a lawsuit and to make disparaging comments about his viewing habits. The elderly man said nothing and did not make eye contact. Just as it appeared as though the bully would make a physical move to attack, he backed off and left. It all happened very quickly and in retrospect, I wish I had come to the defense of the elderly man. Since I was not entirely sure of the inital cause of the altercation, I was not sure which side to support. At the moment, I did not know if the two men had a prior relationship nor did I know why one of them appeared upset. But in thinking about the incident, regardless of my opinions about the show and regardless of the man's request, nobody should bully another person.

Is television worth this kind of behavior? Does it really matter at all what show is on television? Should someone request a change in a public lobby? After all, who really cares about it? Well, I guess some people do and I suppose it is important to some. Should I have jumped to the defense of the elderly gentleman in spite of not understanding what was happening? I think so. After the bully left, I approached the gentleman and asked what happened. He explained to me about the show. He was fighting back the tears and seemed genuinely frightened. I felt my anger rise and wish I had confronted the bully. He might have pulverized me and sent me to kingdom come, but at least I would have protected the honor of the elderly man.

But it is easier to do nothing which is what I did. In the end, I recommend to all to put less stock in what is on the television and work to develop a cavalier, apathetic view of the show. Wars have been fought over property rights disputes and over religious and poltical differences. No war is justified and no hotel lobby battle can have a winner. All lose and in this case, all did.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Christmas Ramblings

A little weary of the same old Christmas Carols, a little tired of seeing red and green, and wondering why everywhere I look there are tinsel, gleaming lights, and ornaments of all shapes and sizes, I headed out in a van to deliver bags of Christmas joy to the elderly in nursing homes. Perhaps my attitude was perfunctory, even cavalier, as we loaded up the van with six of us and drove out to the nursing home. Walking into the complex with a plastered but artificial smile, my feelings were further assailed by the odor of stale urine, depression, sickness, and sadness. Heading toward one of the rooms for the delivery, we walked by a barely alive lady in a wheelchair. Projecting myself into the nursing home one day, I saw the abyss of inevitable sadness of our lives as we head toward physical vapidity.

But all that changed with the first note of Joy to the World as it rang out upon the ears of the kind gentleman who smiled warmly upon our presence. He was happy to see us and happy to share in our Christmas Joy. Suddenly, almost in one fell swoop, my entire countenance changed and I felt like the Grinch when his heart grows! We sang our songs with gusto and although not perfect, we sang to lift the spirits, we sang about the birth of Jesus, and we sang about love. We sprinkled happiness with our breath, with our songs, and with our selfless giving. What began as a duty to deliver gift bags, ended up being the joy of the season. Each person responded with warmth and energy to our singing and each wanted us to stay longer as we wished them Merry Christmas. It was all great fun and reminded me of how our lives are connected to each other and how we gain from the strength and the spirit of our friends. To give is to receive and Christmas is an ideal opportunity to give.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of musical activities as I played my horn in a concert, directed another performance of Handel's Messiah, led two performances of a large choir and orchestra in Glory to the Highest, directed a piece at the band concert, and sang in another concert. I have sung numerous carols, listened to all the others, shared music with anyone who would listen, and gave leadership in virtually every musical situation. Maybe it made me a little tired at times, but I do thank the Lord for the ability and the energy that allows me to be a practicing, a thinking, and a performing musician. We are blessed by the gift of music and I consider myself fortunate to be one of the many servants of the gift.

Today is hat day for me. I left one hat at the movie theatre when we watched Sherlock Holmes which incidentally was enjoyable but a little too heroic and tough at times. I prefer the cerebral Sherlock Holmes over the tough guy James Bond-like Sherlock Holmes. Regardless, the problem is that I left my hat at theatre. My tendency to leave things behind could be some sort of psychological desire to make a difference in the world and leave a part of me everywhere I go, but I don't really want to think about that too much today. In addition to the theatre hat, I also left a different hat at a church where I conducted Handel's Messiah. So today is hat day as I retrieve the missing items and give my bald head some reprieve from the cold and the wind. It's all for the head after all.

Reading the Stieg Larsson series of books that hit the book world a couple of years ago. Pretty energetic, intelligent writing for sure. They are fun, engaging, and full of mental gymnastics for those wanting entertainment mixed with academic moments. My reading habits are very eclectic these days like my music habits I suppose. Maybe one they will write on my tombstone that I was eclectic, confusing, and endearing!

Okay, enough about myself. How is everybody doing these days? The economy seems to be a big mess, people seem insecure, sports games are not all that interesting anymore (but the Cowboys are plugging along and keeping us on our toes!), and food is sort of dull and fattening. On the other hand, it is all just life and is grand even in the down times.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Walmart Ambiguity

Pulling into the parking lot where I luckily found a spot about 200 yards from the front door, I parked and headed into Walmart to purchase one item--a small box of garbage bags. As I made my way back to the farthest reaches of the behemoth superstore, I nearly collided with three shopping carts, nearly tripped on an article of clothing someone had thrown down, got lost and wandered down 2 aisles full of containers of some kind, marveled at the large signs on every display, apologized four times for being in someone's way, was apologized two times for someone else being in my way, and found myself on the back wall examining the multitude of choices for garbage bags. Finding the preferred box of bags, I then dodged more shopping carts, lots of people, several displays and found an open cash register. For the first time in memory, I did not have to wait long to pay and leave the store. By comparison to the past, it was a grand experience in all respects. I was not exhausted, I only avoided being run over in the parking lot three times, I did not step on gum on the pavement, and did not feel a desperation to wash my hands after touching too many items. I left the parking lot with a half smile and for the first time in recent years, I did not vow never to return.

Yet once again I was miserable in my little shopping escapade. Too many selfish people, products too close together, unhappy workers, unhappy shoppers, lots of costume jewelry, trinkets, overly packaged useless products, too many nearly colisions, and a feeling of desperation on the faces of many people as they buy happiness from their children, their spouses, their friends, and yes themselves. The parking lot has loose carts around, trash on the ground, used discarded diapers, cigarette butts, and a constant circle of cars hoping to get close to the door to avoid walking very far. Any joy in me for shopping was effectively eradicated by the miserable experience of commercialism and clutter, by a feeling of disgust, by modern conveniences, and by people doing exactly as I was doing, saving a few dollars in a megastore.

Of course, I do need to be honest about this. I could have gone to a smaller store in town and likely found what I needed. I probably would have paid a little more and I might not have found exactly what I was seeking. Or for that matter I could shop all over town until I found something similar. Or maybe I could even create my own garbage bags out of discarded clothes or an old tarp in the storage building. I am, after all, somewhat industrious, and not necessarily dependent on store bought items all the time. But instead I chose the easy, convenient route by stopping at Walmart and getting what I needed. Complain I might, but nobody coerced me at gunpoint to shop at Walmart. Walmart has built an empire catering to the needs of the people and providing goods and services at one location for a cheap price. I and billions of others have benefited from their business model, a model designed for success and a model example of supply and demand. My admiration and my money often find residence at Walmart and to repress my respect for this institution is to be dishonest.

But complain I must, for to spend time at Walmart is to chip away at my independence and my solitude, my personality, and the essence of individuality. Therein lies the ambiguity of a love/hate relationship with the very place that helps make our lives better and easier. Maybe next time I will find my garbage bags somewhere, but for today, Walmart was the answer.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Economy and work ethic

As a college educator and being a teacher for over 27 years, I often find myself in discussion with my colleagues and friends over the role and purpose of higher education. Should we be training our students for the workforce, giving them tools and skills they can use each day as an employee for a particular position? Or should we provide a broader liberal arts education that allows them greater marketability, giving them critical thinking skills that can be applied throughout their lives as they build a career? In the process of education, should we help them become entreprenuerial, to become leaders, to use their personal ambition to propel them forward regardless of their chosen profession? At what point does the world of training collide and intersect with the world of thinking?

I recall as a young teacher hearing the complaints from other teachers of the quality of students in today's schools. As I moved from college education to public school and back to higher education, I have heard the litany of concerns being raged around the coffee pots and in the teacher's lounges. "Students are not interested in learning," has been expressed ad nauseum by teachers at all levels. "Students no longer read." "Students don't know how to write." "Students don't know how to research." "Students do not have a good work ethic and students do not know how to act." Really the list goes on and on, and as the complaints continue so do the students continue to come and go. Over my 27 years, I really have not seen a lot of changes in students for the most part. Some are prepared for college, most are not. Some have a strong work ethic, most do not. Some read, most don't. Some are good writers, most are not. Some behave, most do not. Perhaps, as I think about it, I was lacking myself as a college student!

Concern and discussion about college students will continue as long as we have universities. But the real problem is not the lack of quality students, the problem is that we in higher education are not entirely sure how to provide an education that prepares students for today's economy. We cast a broad teaching net hoping to catch as many students as possible to help them in the future. We do so through General Education and what is known as discipline specific courses. A university is not institution for job training, although some of that is certainly necessary and valuable. A university cannot possibly prepare a student for every possibility in the world, but a university can encourage, guide, and yes train, at least to an extent, students for most types of employment.

The process of education does not necessarily teach content, but instead teaches how to learn, how to discriminate between fact and fiction, how to find information, and ultimately how to use knowledge and cognition to develop careers and sustain excellence in the work place. What an education teaches is the value of having a work ethic, for without a work ethic there is no economy. Our economic ills, driven by excessive governmental spending and a disregard for the power of supply and demand, are partly the result of a poor work ethic. Given that a work ethic is the result of recognition of need, of ambition, of a desire for improvement, we are seeing many college students graduating without a strong work ethic. While the blame cannot be laid at the feet of the instiutions, and in fact blame can be shared by students, parents, society, economy, and culture, we as colleges and universities need to recognize our essential responsibility of finding ways to help students develop a work ethic.

Ironically, this is not to say there are not many people seeking employment. People willing and able to work hard, ready to be productive, ready to contribute to the success of the company are numerous indeed. But, sadly, those desperately seeking employment are hampered by the interference of supply and demand in the world. Demand for more supply results in more jobs. In this light, it is paramount for employers to meet the needs of the people. When the demagogues of the world interfere with supply and demand, we see an artificial economy teetering on the brink of a freefall. With this artificiality in supply and demand, comes the great anathema of excessive unemployment blended with a lack of skills and abilities to meet the demands of the people when they arrive. It makes the institutions of higher education very nervous to graduate students who cannot find employment. But back to the problem at hand.

With information, entertainment, relationships, and opportunity at all our fingertips, it stands to reason that college students no longer see a need for a work ethic that propels them to the next level. The next level is already in our midst, why try to improve on it? And yet, the fact remains that employers are struggling to find employees willing and able to put in a hard day's work and be productive. To thrive and develop and refine our society, we must find a way to encourage students to have a strong work ethic and to learn how to learn, to learn how to produce, and to learn how to make a difference.

Am I concerned for the future? Sure. But do I think students are any less motivated today than yesterday? No. What has changed is the immediacy of information, entertainment, and relationships. What once was difficult is now presented easily. When my children began to walk, it was out of a need to move more quickly and efficiently to accomplish their goals--food, facilities, fun and excitement! If our students have no need to stand up and walk, they will remain in a crawl position throughout their educational endeavors. My responsibility as a teacher is to find and demonstrate how and why education remains vital for today's students. The journey for excellence continues.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

The Chess Game in my Head

Today: I keep a running chess game in my head that allows me to see beyond each step and to examine the consequences of decisions and the potential for success or disaster. I attribute this characteristic to my Dad who made such an impact on my life at an early age.


Last week:

Talking to my supervisor about an upcoming issue, I mentioned to him that it was possible after I told someone something, that person would respond in another way, which would in turn alter the time-table of the event and put in motion other consequences, possibly resulting in a potential problem. Determined to have positive results, we decided to rethink the next step to make sure all subsequent events would lead to a successful conclusion. It felt like a big chess game to me.

Two years ago:

A student wished to play me in chess. We tore into a game and it was a tough one. I miscalculated a move and because of his excellent knight playing ability, it was looking like a check-mate in 4 moves. But I saw an opportunity, risky though it may be, to pull him into a rook capture. Rooks are funny pieces because they only have value when put into play. Otherwise, they are not much of a threat. Yet players often cannot turn down an opportunity for a capture of such a potentially potent piece. So I moved a bishop, thereby opening my rook for capture. Upon capturing my rook, I then moved my queen to force him to move his King. Two moves later, it was over and he was shocked. Victory again.

Fifteen years ago:

A tough game against a brilliant conductor/businessman who was the director of the local symphony. The battle went to the end although the outcome seemed destined from the beginning as the opponent opened with a classic Russian start. Unable to navigate around an amazing pawn defense, I held my own until I got my queen in a compromising position. He pounced on the mistake resulting in the loss of my queen and very few pawns to protect my King. The game ended in sadness and the stress of the game exhausted me for days as I rewound my mistakes. In his irritating nasal voice he informed me that I needed to practice harder. Was he referring to my chess playing or my musicianship? Never was sure.

High school tournament (1977):

Reaching the finals, the opponent had a jerky style intent on psychological torture. Staring intently at my face until I moved, he then stared at the board until it was time to move. Grabbing his piece, he would slam it loudly on the board and immediately stare at me until I moved my piece again. Very disconcerting game and incredibly stressful. I felt my blood rushing through me and my heart racing with each progression of the game. Working to ignore his obnoxious style, I methodically whittled away at his pawns and knights. In a sideways attack, I surprised him with an adroit usage of my rooks, ending the game and winning the tournament. Terribly relieved but worn out, I vowed to avoid tournaments forever after that experience.

Elementary school (1970):

After supper, my father and I tore into yet another game. This was a nightly occurrence and we were way past the 4 move smash. He used it on me a couple of times when we first started playing, but now we were in the pawn offense and reserve the queen for power. This particular night, I was on my game, predicting each of his moves, anticipating several moves ahead, and pulling him into some mistakes. It looked like my first victory was imminent. But, unknown to me, he had recognized the strength of diagonal knights, and he began to move forward in that crazy zig-zag of knights that make them formidable opponents. Dad smiled as he altered my strategy and I suddenly found myself on the defensive, losing pawns, and not able to get my queen in any kind of helpful position. Soon I heard the dreaded word "Checkmate." Foiled again by my dad.

Analysis today:

Dad never allowed me to win which meant that my later victories in high school were earned not given. While this may have caused a shade of resentment and typical father-son competition, it also provided a sense of confidence in my own abilities. I lost due to my lack of skill but when I won, it was a result of my own abilities and not his giving in. In retrospect, I realize he worked hard to make sure I knew that I won on my own, with my own devices, with my own skill. A father's true desire is for his children to be better than himself. From him I learned that to succeed requires skill, wisdom, planning, diligence, and thorough examination of all sides of the situation. I use these qualities everyday in my work and in my life.

Wednesday, December 07, 2011

Literary friendships

As I think about my friends over the years, I realize that time, distance, perceptions, philosophies all alter friendships. Mike and I were inseparable when we were younger, but for many reasons we became disconnected and now it has been many years since we were friends. My friend Gary in high school and college remained close for many years. We double dated, we went skiing, camping, fishing, climbing, played racquetball, wrestled, and talked about girls for years! But we went our separate ways, gaining from our friendship but no longer in touch. And such is true for most friendships, they make us better and are essential to our lives, but they rarely stay at a high point indefinitely. It really is not possible to stay the same forever, for to do so is to stagnate in your own development as a person.

Each friendship, regardless of its longevity or lack thereof, is infinitely beneficial due to the quality of the relationship. We learn, we grow, we are emotionally changed with each passing event and each person that touches our lives. Such is true as well of our literary friendships, and believe me, I have had many. My literary friends go back to childhood and include Beverly Cleary, Hugh Lofting, hundreds of comic books, biographies, Dr. Seuss, and folk tales. Saying goodbye to those friends (but keeping them just the same!), I made new friends as I moved into the teenage years.

My teen friends included John Steinbeck, Louis L'Amour, Donald Hamilton (Matt Helm was cool), Ian Fleming, C.S. Lewis (still a good friend), Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (we are getting close again), James Michener (still love Centennial and the Drifters), and Allan Eckert. I did shake hands with Shakespeare, Dickens, Emerson, Hemingway, and Faulkner but never developed any real friendships of lasting value with that group. Albert Camus and I spent some time together and although lacking in quantity time, Victor Hugo and I still are buddies through thick and thin.

Then the college years became a blur of friendships including David Morrell, J.R. Tolkien, Elmer Kelton, Zane Gray, Michael Crichton, Robin Cook, Gore Vidal, Norman Mailer, Richard Adams, and Theodore Dreiser. Each one is a special friend worthy of a manly hug or a fun conversation. Time went on and the friends came and went, each time making me more complete and each experience a worthy one. Now today I eat dinner with Larry McMurtry, Cormac McCarthy, Reynolds Price, and my new best friend Graham Greene.

Jeff Shaara and I are pretty close and Robert Parker's friendship is forever in spite of his terse language and understated prose. As far as my female friends go, Candice Millard is a remarkable friendship and so is Jean Auel. Maybe I shouldn't admit it, but Kathleen Woodiwiss and I go way back, and Nora Roberts is certainly among those friends as well. And I really should not forget my time with Nathaniel Hawthorne, Thomas Hardy, David Baldacci, Harlan Coben, Michael Palmer, my love hate relationship with master writer Philip Roth. All have played a role in my life and I consider them friends, some more than others!

You know, I better acknowledge some time with Theodore Roosevelt who swam successfully among the sharks and whose amazing life continues to influence me almost daily. Oh...and a smile and a nod to Benjamin Franklin and Martin Luther who wrote so eloquently and made a difference to so many.

My friendships continue to wax and wane, to change, to grow, to dissipate, and such is the journey of life and relationships. I may occasionally return to an old friend to say hello, to read a little Steinbeck or L'Amour, to laugh and cry with McMurtry or get thrilled with Morrell, to have an adventure with Baldacci or fear with Michael Palmer, or perhaps a moment of love and history with Jean Auel or the wonderfully descriptive writing of James Lee Burke. I might pick up Roth and be angry while I am admiring his talent or share in the poetry of Reynolds Price, sappy though it may be at times.

But it is time to eat more meals with Graham Greene and enjoy the excitement of Stieg Larsson. My literary friends mean a lot to me, but not as much as my real friends!

Saturday, November 26, 2011

No surprise there

We read in dismay about the lady in California who pepper sprayed other shoppers to keep them away from her desired item--an XBox game for her children. In the mayhem that ensued, she got the item and with her three children, she checked out and left Walmart without anyone realizing she was the culprit. Twenty people were injured in the event, ten of which resulted from crowd smashing.

The subsequent articles about this event cited the problems of "Black Friday" including the desperation for certain items, the obsession with shopping, the insistence on the immediate acquisition, and the total disregard for other people. All these things and more, much more, caused this event to happen. Maybe in the end we can simply state that the lady was not well-grounded in her mental faculties.

But somehow many of us were not surprised that this happened. After all, an XBox is the greatest single object on the planet, worthy of mayhem and destruction, a game to end all games, and absolutely necessary for survival, not to mention the children that are utterly dependent on the game for happiness and joy in their lives. Who could exist without an XBox? Food, clothing, and shelter are secondary to the need for an XBox. In fact, I wonder why our government has not considered the XBox has a part of the bailout process for businesses, for welfare, for unemployment.

Maybe this is the problem. We are all entitled to an XBox, but we do not all have one. If every person on the planet were given the XBox, there would not be a need to pepper spray anyone trying to get it at the store. So I urge our governmental officials to stop the shopping chaos in Walmart by giving everybody an XBox, thus removing the need for pepper spray to prevent someone else from getting the XBox. Our entitlement to the XBox must also make us entitled to harm others to acquire that which we are supposed to have in the first place. In fact, maybe our Rights should be rewritten to state, "Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of XBoxes"!

Okay, enough of the sarcasm. But I do urge everyone to use good judgment and human compassion in the acquisition of stuff. When our desire for things rules greater than our common sense and our sensitivity for others, then we are practicing an inverted sense of right and wrong.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

A Week of Downers

The death of four people I know made it a week of downers. Funerals are not my favorite event to attend and I especially do not like that I will not see those people again here on earth. One was 24, one was quite elderly and the other two nearing retirement age. All were parents, all had family, all had friends, all made an impact on the world. I spent the week with a heavy heart, sympathizing with their families, counseling students, counseling myself, and rethinking priorities of life. Suddenly the little myopic problems of being an administrator did not seem all that important. On top of the heavy emotions, I was criticized for something I did not understand. Sure made for a difficult week.

But there were many great things as well. I love directing the Brady choir which combines First Baptist Church, First United Methodist Church, and other interested parties. We are preparing for a Christmas event that promises to be a grand and glorious expression celebrating the birth of Christ. As I prepared for Wednesday night's rehearsal, I was tired, grouchy, and really had very little joy in my heart for the rehearsal. But seeing the bright, happy faces and experiencing the infectious joy of the people changed me for the better, and I responded in kind, reminding me that rehearsals are an important part of the musical journey to the performance and further reminding me that making music is about the people and the sharing of our gifts with each other. The grief isolation I was experiencing was put aside for a few minutes and I found myself in a musical embrace with other people.

Now at the end of week I am in Arizona at a music convention (convention is the appropriate word since this gathering of music executives is generally conventional!) where we learn how to be better music executives. We learn about curriculum, technology, trends, and general focus for music units across the country. We also reconnect with friends, making some new ones along the way, perhaps sharing ideas and problems with each other. We eat food that is a little too expensive, but tasty and we sit in meetings taking notes hoping to find something useful to bring back with us to our places of employment.

In a way though, this convention is allowing me to heal a little from the difficult week and to rejuvenate my administrative responsibilities. Spending some time writing music, studying documents, relaxing, thinking, and learning is helping me to see world as a bright, wonderful place once again. The vastness of the sky, the beauty of nature, the complex but warm people, and the comfort of knowing my family is home safe and sound, all work together to demonstrate the joy that resides within us, the joy that needs to be expressed, the joy that deserves an opportunity to shine forth.

And joyful I am for my life and for the lives of friends, family, students, colleagues, and the world in which we reside. I smile in earnest and put aside the downers of the week. The journey continues and it is a good one.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The Myth of the Canon

In literature it is Milton, Shakespeare, Dickens, Hawthorne, Melville, Tolstoy, Hemingway among many others. In art it is DaVinci, Rembrandt, Monet, Duchamp, Picasso, etc. For music we find Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, and in extreme cases Stravinsky. We are discussing the canon, an established program of study based on those works deemed the highest of academic excellence. In the study of History as a subject we tend to look at the events through the lens of governments and rulers rather than the people. This is not due to a lack of compassion for people but rather an awareness that rulers can make dramatic decisions that affect individual lives. Yet in spite of an emphasis on governments we are also acutely aware of how achievements by successful people can shape the future of our lives. We are often so connected to the past that to ignore it is to be unfair to the present. As I type on this computer, I give thought to the microchip, the transistor, the telephone and telegraph, and electricity, all of which make today on this computer possible. In fact, we could trace the computer back to one of the greatest inventions in history, the printing press.

In thinking these thoughts of the past and the present, I am gainfully charged by the study of history, a look at the past, an acknowledgment of great people, an acceptance of their contributions to the world. It is humbling and energizing to consider the truths found in Shakespeare or Theodore Dreiser, to look upon the beauty of Rembrandt, and to hear the line and form in Mozart. We learn from the masters and we benefit from knowing the truths of past. The past cannot be separated from the present and without the contributions of both the governments and the individuals we would not be who we are today collectively or singularly.

Knowing this truth and acknowledging the greatness of art, of literature, of music that has withstood the test of time, I have to question the permanent residence that the establishment of the canon has brought to our culture. For some reason, perhaps due to history, judgment, scholarship, or simply tradition, we in academia have decided that the established canon of literature, art, and music should never alter, should remain in concrete forever. Rather than studying the canon, respecting it, learning from it, we have made it the end result.

"You, my young student, need to know John Milton so that you may gain from and perhaps imitate John Milton and go out and become a new John Milton." "This is Monet, you should love his work, perhaps paint as Monet painted, now go become another Monet." Or "This is Brahms, a master composer for sure, here is his music. Love it, perform it, copy it, and become as Brahms (if you can)." We teach the great literature and art because we love it and desire for others to love it and live it as well. We teach the finest example of our discipline as a way to demonstrate our own concept of excellence as determined by critics, by audiences, by a general acceptance, by the passing of time. And there is no question that Brahms is worth studying, including his life, his use of rhythmic accents, his harmonic invention, his ability to create variations, and his unequaled musical developments.

But if we are to progress in art and in culture, if we are forge ahead, to plant new crops, to innovate, to create and make the arts vital in our world, we must let go of the necessity to make the canon the goal for our students. The established literature, similar to learning history, is without question necessary for knowing the foundations of our disciplines; and having a solid core of knowledge and a framework for our society is paramount for developing the future. Rather than abolishing the work of the masters, we should and do embrace it, applying its truths and its beauty in all we do in literature, in art, and in music. The canon, however, for all its majesty and essential value, must become a springboard for diving into the artistic future, for to dive into the past is to find stagnant water filled with old algae and old efforts. Students today want and deserve tools that will help them succeed, tools for greater expression, tools of opportunity, of entrepreneurship, tools that will enable music, art, and literature a secure place among the disciplines of today and tomorrow.

The myth of the canon is that the canon is located at the end of a narrow tunnel without any change and without any goals other than a focused but uneventful journey toward an excellence long past. The myth is that there is only one route to the excellence and that the established canon is the reward at the end of the journey. It is time to give our students new tools that will allow them success and allow them to try new routes and discover new art along the way. There might be bumps and twists and turns on our journey of discovery but the gain is the possibility of progression, of creation, and of greater expression. Along the way, we nod at and learn from the past, from the masters, but as we learn from them, we may see a gleam in their eye that reminds us of the need to imagine something new. As I walk by these masters, I have to wonder if they saw their work as timeless artifacts destined for greatness forever. Did they create and write anticipating their work would one day be viewed as the final destiny for all future artists? Did they know they would be the canon?

Our literature, art, and music is a result of somebody's imagination. Time to imagine something new and create a new canon for students today. We respect the printing press, but there is no need to spend 4 years studying how to build it nor how to replicate it.

An advocate not for abolishment of the old but certainly an advocate for expansion of what we deem as necessary, I believe it is time to reinvent the canon, to include new forms, genres, ideas, and thereby propel imagination and creativity to new heights. The study of literature may need to include children's literature, comic books, folk tales, detective stories, science fiction, biographies. Art may need to expand to computer graphics, pop art, signage, comic strips, advertising, furniture, and modern architecture. Music may need to look at rock, pop, jazz, folk, and world music. The old classics are fine but this is a call to seek out and experiment in our quest for new classics. Otherwise we sit in academic quicksand, slowly being engulfed by the past with little gain for the future.

Sunday, October 02, 2011

Church Music

Several weeks ago my wife had an idea that we could check out a movie. Nice idea with a kind of quaintness and charm that typifies her relaxed approach to life. Although not necessarily a movie fan, partly due to my not being much of a visual person and partly due to my lack of emotional response to most movies, I was of course (like any good husband) willing to support her idea. We both knew that I would either fall asleep during the film or would read or work on the computer. Still she liked the idea and started brain-storming about what kind of movie and what snacks would accompany our experience.

Asking what movie I should get and where, we began to discuss the options: Hastings, Red Box, Pay-per-view, Walmart? I knew not to mention my preference for a heavy, serious theme or a "man" kind of movie about fighting and decided to search for a comedy or family film or maybe a combination of comedy and family in a sort of Romantic girl type of movie. Going together, we first stopped at Hastings and headed toward the movie section. Quickly overwhelmed with thousands upon thousands of choices, most of which seemed inane, I found myself in a state of confusion due to the seemingly infinite number of movies from which to select. Gravitating slowly but deliberately to the books where I was in my comfort zone (and yes I do recognize the inconsistency of being comfortable among thousands of books but not among thousands of movies), my wife settled on a nice animated version of Rapunzel.

The emotional anguish and confusion, even bewilderment, is actually greater than the pleasure of the opportunity and almost the movie itself. This is due to having too many options. While freedom of choice is of course preferred, wouldn't it be easier to have fewer selections from which to pick? Obviously the easy answer to this problem is to raise standards to a high point, thus reducing the options to the few deemed worthwhile. I like this plan, but it then requires an analytical approach to entertainment that most people cannot embrace. When entertainment demands the same level of academic analysis that learning in the classroom requires, then it almost ceases to be entertainment. If I have to work hard to relax, is it really relaxation?

The life of a church musician is both similar and different to finding a movie. Luckily church music is not about entertainment, it is about worship. This gives the process a higher purpose that is neither selfish nor individualistic. Instead church music is about God and the collective process of worshiping God.

The problem comes not from the purpose and the goals but from the immediacy of the musical needs. Too much music from which to choose. In the old days, music ministers would pick up the hymnal and select from the 50 or so hymns that most of the congregants seemed to prefer. While it could possibly create a built-in stagnation, and likely did, it sure was a simpler time for church music. Reduce the choices, simplify the decisions. Fast forward to now, and we are often paralyzed by the sheer amount of music available at our fingertips. Songs, hymns, and choruses number in the thousands with several more arriving with the writing of these words.

The typical music minister in a Baptist or non-denominational church with the obligation and yes opportunity to select 4 perhaps 5 pieces of music must choose from thousands of sacred selections to form a worship service that meets the needs of God and the people in the service. Pretty tall order for sure. Add in the questions of choir vs. praise team, organ, piano, drums, guitars, other instruments, plus hopefully provide some kind of theological consistency and Biblical accuracy, and suddenly we have an impossible task. Why do I do it then? Because I love the challenge!

Musical Thoughts this morning

Getting up early and fighting through the morning stretches that seem more necessary at age 51 than bygone years, and dealing with the tightened tendons in the feet, I eventually landed in my chair to find out about the news, read about the economy, and think about music. Music is not always my profession, having made the leap into writing and administration, but it will always be my passion. Music holds an abundance of complexity, emotional depth, and opportunity for exploration at all levels of the musical strata. Sadly and joyfully music also is never quite good enough. A composition can always be improved (although the Beethoven Violin Concerto comes pretty close to perfection!), and a performance can always be stronger. My goals as a musician are never quite met, both as an active performer/composer and as a listener, and I deal with this truth in an ironic blend of excitement and discouragement. In music, like athletics, or wealth, one can never be entirely satisfied. This is both compelling and dispelling.

Youtube certainly is a magnificent resource for music. Regardless of one's interest, be it art music or country or gospel or rock or punk or any number of musical genres, youtube has something for everyone. As a music teacher, I set up about 10 tabs on my browser and supplement my lecture with examples from youtube. The teaching is efficient and the learning becomes multi-dimensioned, with instant examples of whatever is being discussed at the fingertips. It makes for a zingy ride as we ping-pong between cognition and aural experiences enhanced by the visual. A well-planned lesson of Charles Ives can show pictures of him, his house, his piano, moving rapidly to musical examples displaying his theoretical language, arriving at a brief but thorough look at his song output. It makes for a solid Ivesian experience that is not easily forgotten and easily assessed.

But this morning was not about Ives or art music at all. I am enjoying listening to the marvelous singing of Carrie Underwood. Not being a big country/western fan, I do have some favorites here and there. It is unusual for a dean of music to admit to liking something other than art music but in truth I do. A fan of Chicago, Stevie Wonder, most jazz, Skillet, Lady Gaga, Elton John, and Broadway musicals, I also enjoy Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Randy Travis, Alan Jackson, and am a die-hard Elvis fan. Now I may add Carrie Underwood to the list. She really has a great voice. Wonderful phrasing, emotional power, wide range, personal expression, and lots of great musical instincts.

I do get a little uncomfortable, almost edgy, about the strident vocals reaching for high notes, the delayed vibrato, and the country style scooping, but I cannot deny her amazing ability to turn a phrase, to find the high point, to sing accurately and powerfully. Quite an artist for sure.

On the other side, I have really been enjoying the music of Pierre Boulez. Very complicated, rich music with a collective kind of energy that keeps the listener guessing and eagerly awaiting the next event. Of course I recognize that his music has a limited audience and that much of it is atonal without enough repetition to feel comfortable. Also the extreme order of the musical events seems to result in a random quality that is absurdly ironic. But those things aside, I really enjoy hearing his music.

How can I enjoy Carrie Underwood and Pierre Boulez on the same day? Not sure I can answer this except to say that I love music and sound and I tend to respect all of it for what it is. Not that I like everything I hear, but I do like that I can hear it and that it exists. We may have preferences for certain sounds and certain kinds of order in the sounds, but our desire for one type of music does not preempt the validity of other kinds of music in culture. Rejecting Boulez does not detract from its worth, nor does liking Carrie Underwood make it the superior genre. While liking both may be unusual, it neither elevates the quality of their music nor diminishes it.

Rather than working hard to make others like what I like or to respond to music the way I do, I am comfortable living in musical isolation at least to an extent. That stated, I also have a responsibility as an academician and administrator to teach students the vast array of elements and historical influence of music on a broad scale. How they use that knowledge and how they develop their own preferences or application is up to them. I cannot legislate nor insist on students' preferences for genres or sounds, but I can uphold my academic integrity by teaching them the complex musical world and materials needed for music making.

So back to my eclectic musical life. I love it but suspect it confuses others. Makes sense others are confused since I am a bit confused myself! But as a famous man once said, why do I have be consistent and predictable? (Al Tucker).

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Music for Musicians?

With a forthrightness not often found in conversation, an acquaintance asked me why musicians seem to prepare and perform music for other musicians. Confused by the question, he asked me why so much of the music we perform is in a foreign language or in a "language" that is out of the experience of most listeners. He was asking me if we have fallen into a trap of teaching and performing music that is only meaningful to other musicians.

If this is true, and it may be to an extent, is it really a problem? After all, great art generally has a small audience. If art does reach the masses and becomes popular, are we then suspicious of its greatness? The wider the influence the likelihood of its commonality? If so, then mediocrity is sustenance of culture, the food of society, the oxygen of our lives. The better the quality, the smaller the audience. Achievement in the arts is then less about acknowledgement and more about meeting the criterion of no popularity. Taking this to its logical conclusion, a work of art that has no appeal is the finest piece ever created. Perhaps this means that no art is the best art. Ah, the joys of nihilism.

But perhaps as Aristotle encouraged, we should find a middle ground for excellence. Or maybe, just maybe, popularity in and of itself does not automatically degrade the essence of excellence or quality. Maybe, in fact, the lack of popularity does not demonstrate any kind of quality. Surely there is a middle ground somewhere in this murky discussion of mass appeal versus limited appeal. In some ways, the danger of politicians is to cast such a wide net hoping for enough votes to win the election, that they sacrifice their integrity and ironically find themselves on a tightrope with a long fall beneath them. So a politician hopes to establish his position, his views, and his steadfastness and still reach enough voters in support to carry him to the next level.

Back to music. If trained musicians compose and perform music for a vast appeal, they will most likely need to pare down their creative spirit with regard to melody, rhythm, and especially harmony. Not that music for the masses is lacking in creativity, but to a trained musician, it often feels a little simplistic and quickly accessible. But if a trained, academic musician only composes and performs for other musicians, then there is little regard for how music can change lives, reach people, minister, make an emotional impact, or simply entertain. In some ways, this type of attitude about music resembles a sad Ponzi scheme that eventually falls apart for lack of any substantial support or real lasting value. There is simply not enough audience to sustain it. It may make a few people feel good and it may have great worth to some, and it may have a certain educational spirit, or academic strength, but it does not have broad appeal to support it over time.

Speaking of time, maybe time is the ultimate test of worth. In 100 years, what music being written and performed today will still be performed? Will it be those works that seem to appeal to a few musicians or will it be those who find a wider sphere, a larger audience? Will Mozart's 41st symphony always enjoy mass popularity (if it does!) or will there be a time when audiences are generally ho-hum toward another performance of the great work? How will the unforgiving and harsh test of time treat popular music of today?

But it does somehow seem elitist and snobby for trained musicians to concentrate all their attentions on performing music for a select few skilled appreciators. There is a balance needed in music curriculum and a consideration of all types of genres in music. To narrow the output to music that is acknowledged as the "great" works would be likened to watching only those movies deemed of the highest quality such as Casablanca or Citizen Kane or only reading Milton and Shakespeare. There is a lasting niche for the great works of art but to do only the great works and thereby limit the audience is to be comfortable living in a vacuum.

With these thoughts, I call to battle those trained, skilled, and academic musicians willing to put aside their inherent selfishness and work diligently and comprehensively toward an inclusive curriculum. A curriculum that does provide music merely for the musicians but also provides music for the people. In the end, it may not be time alone that determines quality, it may be the freedom and joy that comes from music for everyone. Quality art is art that is loved by many both yesterday and today. It is time to fish on the other side of the boat for more fish using large nets and not be satisfied with catching just a few. If our music only appeals to a few, we may be selfishly and irresponsibly rejecting our calling.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Almost Friday

As I smiled at the lady and returned the item I had borrowed from her workplace, an office in the community, I asked her how she was doing. She looked at me with a kind of musty, disgusted grin and replied with a blended mix of optimism and pain, "I have almost made it to Friday." I smiled and said, "Yes, one more day."

Walking away and thinking on her response, I have to wonder about the sadness of our lives that depends on making it to Friday. Have we reached the point in society where the sole value, the ultimate happiness, the central goal is to make it to the end of the work week? Is this goal in order to have free time away from work? To accomplish some other thing? Or to do nothing at all? Or is it the idea of working that diminishes the joy of life? Is the formula for joy simply not to work? Or is misery likened primarily to a work situation?

She may have expressed the desire to "make it to Friday" as a way to share in her desire for a weekend, or she may have been making this type of conversation for many years and finding that everyone who heard the phrase agreed with her. It is always fun to say something and get everyone around you to nod in agreement. It could be enculturated in her to trudge in solemn despair to work every Monday morning and bounce in utter elation as Friday comes to a close. Of course, I have to wonder where the emotion lies on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Are we nearing happiness on Thursday? Are we still miserable on Wednesday? Maybe the peak of misery and pain occurs at 12 noon on Wednesday followed by a progressive, albeit quite slow, move toward happiness as the minutes wind themselves toward Friday at 5:00.

Making the assumption that a worker who is miserable is generally less productive than a happy worker, I would have to assume that our friend is unproductive. Of course it is possible that she has found a way to be a contributing, productive worker in spite of her pervading pain of having to work. But I suspect that her desire not to work is ironically her purpose for working. In other words, without the work, she has no joy in not working. The work is the impetus for the relishing of no work.

Curious as to her no work behavior, I think it would be beneficial to provide an environment for this lady that would cause her to enjoy her work. Unless she has a mental disorder or some physical anomaly that determines her attitude, I would guess that she would be more productive and certainly happier if she were doing something she enjoyed. It may not be possible, but it might be worth a try.

Because having a purpose is a motivation for success, I would take this scenario another step and say that I suspect she finds no purpose in her work and feels as though she does not make any kind of positive difference for anybody or anything, hence her misery in the workplace. Perhaps she had a purpose at one time, perhaps she entered the position believing she could make a difference only to have the challenges overcome the desire for success. Whatever the cause, I might recommend a change in venue or some kind of change in goals.

I further want to remind myself to avoid the trappings of working for the purpose of not working. Working is a joy and an opportunity. We are blessed to work and motivated by purpose, by a desire to make a difference in lives or in an institution or community. Let it not be said that he worked so as not to work. I wish instead to work in joy, to play in joy, and to live as a productive, contributing and joyful person making a difference in the world in some small way.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

It's Not 8:00

Driving into town this morning, I mentally listed the various errands for the morning including going by the office, stopping at the ATM, going to the grocery store, getting the mail, and having my car washed. Placing these errands in order by their location and convenience and after stopping at the office, I found myself at the car wash place. The bays were open, workers were walking about, there was an air of energy and expectation, the business appeared ready to operate, ready to wash and vacuum cars, adding scents and tire dressings and various appealing cleansers to vehicles.

I happily pulled into an open bay, near to the vacuum hoses, and expected several workers to materialize as I hopped out of my truck ready to hand it over for the cleaning experience. But nobody came. I waited about 2 minutes and got the attention of a worker who came over with a scowl on his face. Using my immense charm, I smiled my best smile and said "Good morning, how are you?" With an indirect glance my way and somehow increasing his scowl, he said, "What time do you have?" I glanced at my phone to check the time and said it was 7:58. He said "Two more minutes" and muttered something nearly unintelligible about not giving any time to this place. I nodded and said nothing.

Two minutes later he smiled and said, "How may we help you?" I smiled back (actually tried to hold in a sarcastic laugh) and told him what kind of car wash I wanted. He proceeded to begin the process and I headed to the cashier to pay and then wait for my vehicle.

Supply and demand is an economic truth that in a true market economy is a driving force toward success. This story told has many applications and suppositions. Please allow me a moment of prophecy regarding the young man who refused to work two minutes before official opening time. I predict he will not keep his job much longer, or if he does, he will alter his general practice of performing at a minimum. Because the most productive workers are the ones who work beyond their pay scale and give more to the business than they take, a worker who gives less is likely to find himself unemployed. If a business employs workers who take more than they give, that business will likely find itself struggling. In light of this idea, I predict that if this car wash continues to employ workers who give the minimum, then there becomes an opportunity for another car wash business to be successful. For it stands to reason that in the world of supply and demand and in a world of trading money in exchange for a good or service, the one with the money holds the upper hand.

This is not always true, but is generally true that the service or good should be of greater value than the money exchanged. For today I accepted his impudence, I mean after all the business was officially closed. But I now search for an alternate way to have my car washed, perhaps even my own hand! Will the business suffer at all in the loss of my monthly $14.95? Doubtful. But if nothing else, I am reminded that my goal is to give more than I receive. For me, it just might require working a few minutes before the official opening time.

Monday, September 05, 2011

Talking about health problems--redirection.

Whine, whine, whine. That's what I feel like doing sometimes when I talk about my health problems. Not that they are serious, life-threatening, or debilitating problems. No, they are just nagging pains here and there that are fairly common to everyone. Granted it seems as though more of them showed up after I turned 50. But I have noticed the tendency for me and others to discuss our health problems more as we get older. This may be because there are more of them, or it could be that life has changed--kids are grown, settled in jobs, comfortable in our homes, and that these elements of security ironically exaggerate the other issues.

When we add aging to stability along with the proliferation of medical advice found on television and the internet we have a "perfect storm" of elements that cause those of us over the age of 50 to focus on our own health problems. And of course they are MY problems and I have a right to whine about them and share those problems with others if I so choose. Since we are mostly a self-centered bunch and since the word "I" is one of the most common words in our vocabulary, it stands to reason we would expend great energy discussing our own problems. I want everyone to know about me after all!

Try an experiment sometime. Ask everyone in a group to express something about himself or herself that hurts or is a problem. Aside from the momentary intrusion, which most of us quickly get over, we are eager to share our problems with others, at least unless the problems create social issues. I am reminded of the Far Side comic where a dog admits to having worms. The caption says, "Dog social blunders!" It is wise to avoid subjects that are severly private but it is also wise to avoid minor or innocuous problems such as the scrape on your knee or the sore elbow. And yet, it is sort of fun to whine about the general pains--feet, shoulder, back or whatever. Perhaps I could expend some time discussing my balding problem or knobby knees or a lack of earlobes or any number of anomalies on my person. Before becoming too righteous however, I should point out that sometimes people have a strong suggestion for improvement. Life's experiences are great teachers and those experiences should be shared and not hidden under a bush.

But it is time to eradicate my inherent selfishness--no talking about my health problems. No sharing of my sore feet or my sore shoulder or my occasional lack of sleep or even my expanding waistline due to a lack of running because of the feet problems. This week is not about me. Instead it is a time to focus on others and their problems. Maybe more outward concern will redirect the personal problems and hide them from myself! Doubtful but worth a try. Unfortunately it is hard to hide the limping due to the soreness of the heel caused from running. But it is worth a try. If someone says to me, "How are you?" should I lie? Or maybe a quick nod and a return of "Great, and how are you?" would be appropriate.

Onward to fewer health discussions about me and more discussions about others. In truth, my problems are pretty minor compared to some I know. Perhaps if I weren't so darn selfish I might actually be able to help someone else. Redirection can only be a positive step toward altruism and sincere concern for others. But before actuating my philosophy of the week, I must express irritation with my feet and my shoulder. Darn those pains!

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Folk Music

The trend toward folk music in society and in our churches is a fascinating development pointing toward a desire for simplicity and clarity in musical expression. Not that this is a new thing, music trends historically respond to complexity with a return to simpler forms, construction, and ease of expression. When we study the Baroque (1600-1750), we discover a type of music that seemed to thrive on its sophistication and complexity, a full blown approach to polyphony and intellectual craft. Fugues, episodes, stretto, tonal and real entrances, toccatas, figured bass, and techniques guaranteed to keep you thinking, fill up the sound and music of the Baroque. In reaction, at least to an extent, the Classical period jumped in.

Time for melody and harmony. Time for simplicity and clarity. Mozart and Haydn gave us a simpler form of music that did not necessarily defenestrate the older ways but it did allow for less intellectual rigor and sophisticated craftsmanship. Not to say the music of the Classical period is only for simpletons, some kind of naive child-like expression. In fact, a closer look simply finds an alternate way to express sound and joy.

Moving forward to music of today. I have often bemoaned the loss of American folk music in our society. Our rich heritage of music from the past, music of the folks, music indigenous to our native land has slowly fallen by the wayside and replaced with electronic gadgetry and big forms. We saw a revitalization of a type of folk music in the early 1960s with the hippie, beatnik generation creating music that expresses emotions and concern, music with a simplicity and honesty of heart-felt expression. Put a guitar in the hands of a talented, honest singer and you have folk music. The rise of Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell, Judy Collins, and later John Denver gave us a wealth of new folk music in the tradition of the past with current problems and social concerns being articulated. Pete Seeger continued to perform folk music from our history, discovering new gems from the past.

The Vietnam War may have given us cause for a new generation of folk music, but it was also partly a reaction to the complexity of music making in both popular and art cultures that gave it wings. As popular music once again grew in sound and complexity in the 70s onward to today, and although we never saw a complete lack of folk music, it was its very nature of a hammering pulse and added instruments that has caused a new kind of expression today.

The idea of complexity leading to simplicity may be true to an extent but we must be cautious in assuming that all folk music is simple. In fact, melodic and harmonic complexity is abundant although not always obvious. The charm of much of folk music is not necessarily its basic construction but rather its honest and deep emotional expression. Because folk music has not preconceived ideas of what music must be or what it should sound like, and because folk music is often a heart-felt expression emanating from the soul, the music itself is often new, fresh, and original.

Therein we find the joys of folk music--originality, honesty, and freedom. Regardless of the subject matter and regardless of the reaction, the music has an important and vital spot in our heritage and in our current presence. May folk songs reign at the forefront of our culture, taking their rightful place as music by the people and for the people.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Translating in Numbers

Reasoning with Joel based on common sense procedures is a difficult endeavor due to his inability to accept cause and effect. He cannot understand how to improve efficiency or comfort or ease of practice. When one method has worked, whether our perception of success would be different or not, Joel tends to stay with that method regardless of the circumstances. As responsible guardians we continue to walk the tight-rope of giving him latitude and allowing him to make his own mistakes, hoping he will learn from the situation and improve the next time. We often remind him of ways to improve, of things to consider, of various methods to make his life easier, quicker, more convenient, but unfortunately, his natural inclination is to keep it the same way regardless of its efficacy.

We do have ways, however, of helping Joel deal with his general lack of common sense and awareness. We translate the experience into some kind of order, often using numbers to demonstrate the need. Rather than saying "go pack your bag for the upcoming trip," we will instead say, "go count the number of items you required for the upcoming trip." We then later remind him to pack the exact number needed. Obviously there are potential problems with this system in that he may leave something out or not count a needed item, and yet insist that he has the correct number. But the upside of this system is that he is able to order things in his mind and simplify the overriding goal into one aggregate.

Being autistic is often overwhelming with the sheer plethora of information coming at you constantly. An autistic cannot process everything around him quickly nor easily, and it becomes a tornado of sounds, sights, and images that have little to no cohesiveness in their delivery. The opportunity to reduce the unnecessary, paring down the essential information into a number or numbers is blissful to an autistic. This is true for nearly all situations, circumstances, and goals. We help him order his goals, aiming for one final number to be considered the main goal or purpose. When we express the objectives, the plans, the expectations in terms of a number, Joel's eyes light up and he quickly comprehends what is about to happen. He may not always understand how the ordered numbers work together to accomplish the necessary goal, but he is willing to and excited about taking those exact steps.

Sometimes this requires a great deal of specificity but at other times, it can be expressed in generalities. The more specific the expression, the better quality will be the results. Conversely, the more general is the list, the more breadth of accomplishment is performed. If cleaning his room is the requirement, we will see more accomplishment by listing the order of how to make that happen. "Joel, do five things: 1) make your bed, 2) pick up your clothes and put them in the hamper, 3) place your shoes in your closet, 4) stack your games on the night stand, 5) pick up any papers or trash on the floor and place in the trash can." We then follow up with: "Joel, please do those 5 things: bed, clothes, shoes, games, trash." We then anticipate success.

Or we could try the old unsuccessful method: (LOUD VOICE) "Joel, go clean up your room now and do it right." In a frustration moment, we might start listing all the things that should happen to get the room cleaned, but without a strict order of events, to an autistic it will feel like standing in an anthill wondering what is happening or a storm of oobleck falling upon his head and making everything sticky. The clarity of numbers provides clarity of thought for Joel.

We have learned to get his attention by taking away distractions, presenting the overall goal and purpose, then ordering and numbering the events. We wish we could always apply a time-table to the instructions but time remains a mysterious abstraction to Joel and likely always will. With this in mind, we allow greater time for accomplishment than would normally be needed and continually remind ourselves for patience, wisdom, and clarity.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Helpful Reviews

Just received a vote on Amazon that a review I wrote was helpful. As an experienced reviewer, I have learned not to be overly reactive to the voting system and yet learn from it as I continue to write. If a review is "helpful," does that mean the reader appreciates the writing style, or the book itself, or the information found therein? Does that mean the reader already read the book in question or was considering it? Conversely if a vote is negative, that is that the review was not helpful, what does that mean exactly? Did the reader not like the writing of the review or the content or it just did not meet the reader's expectations.

I suspect most people who read Amazon reviews are curious as to whether they should purchase the item or not. The review should provide a general summary of the item without giving away endings or spoiling anything for the reader or purchaser. But a good review is also a type of assessment tool of the book by one person who may or may not be qualified to pass judgment. I am certainly not qualified to give my expert opinion, especially given that I am not an expert, and yet I am qualified by virtue of my humanness, my experience, and the simple fact that I have used the product. Somebody hopefully values my opinion whether worthless or not and is willing to read my own slanted and narrow views of the item.

If in fact someone does find my review helpful, this becomes a strong vote of affirmation that I am meeting the needs of the reader in my reviews. It does not lift me to any kind of expertise level nor sustain every element of my ability as a reviewer, but it does provide supportive feedback for my effort. I cannot take the vote to the bank but I can make a small deposit of credit in my ego bank and use that to continue to review books and products. On the other side, a negative vote is like a withdrawal and while I choose not to allow one negative to withdraw too much from my esteem bank, it does have a slight affect.

But in truth, if there is a negative vote, perhaps there is something I can improve about my review or reviews. There must have been a tone or a flaw or a slight problem that caused the reader to shrug and decide the review was not helpful. I do not think one negative vote is worth a wholesale change in style, but I do think it should make me pause and study on how to improve. One positive vote should not make me feel like running for President, and one negative vote should not make me want to change professions or put myself in a cage, but at the same time feedback--good or bad--enables us to improve ourselves and grow regardless of what we are doing.

I enjoy writing reviews and I like to believe I am helping other people to read or not to read certain books or to buy or not to buy certain products, but it would be easier not to worry about what people think. Yet I feel compelled to continue to write, hoping to make some kind of difference for those seeking my opinion. It may be a slanted opinion or not based on any kind of expertise and it may not be valued by everyone but in some small way, it gives me an opportunity to express myself. Onward to more reviews!

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Transformation

After a nice dinner with a friend comprised of delicious bread and salad, we headed to the movie theater to see Transformers: The Dark Side of the Moon. I never was a "transformers" kid or anything--maybe those little machine car things came out later or something. I have also not seen any of the movies. So this was my first experience with the world of transformers and what all that means. I think I can sum it up though pretty well: good transformers living on earth were abandoned by human leaders and bad transformers tried to take over the world. Lots of fights and explosions resulted in the good transformers and good humans defeating the bad transformers, demonstrating that man and machine can co-exist! Yea!

Speaking of defeat--my feet hurt. Or to say it another way--Duh feet (defeat) hurt! Okay, silly pun I know and seems rather incongruous with transformers. These massive machines with mechanical things all over them alter their shape to become other kinds of things--cars, trucks, tanks, gun things, and monster snake-like animals. They have eyes though and are vulnerable in their eyes. Also when they die or lose limbs, they kind of bleed odd red substance that may be blood or red oil maybe. Not sure. But it comes back to this--they transform. I may need to transform my exercise routine.

I have bruised my heel on one foot and the balls of my foot on the other. I enjoy running with the wind blowing on my face, the sun coming up over the horizon, the animals waking up and making sounds, the smells both good and bad, that permeate the natural world, the beautiful subleties of nature surrounding me with the glisten of dew, the slight breeze gently moving the blades of grass, the warming of the temperature, and the vastness of the sky as it shines with anticipation of a new day. But without healthy feet, I cannot run. Hurts too much.

Short of changing myself into a cool sports car with fast wheels and a glossy paint job, I must transform my exercise routine and make it something else. Running is dependent on strong, pain-free feet. So today I go to the gym (bah!) and exercise under a roof (bah!) and do some cycling and rowing junk. Where is the joy, where is the natural world, where is the running? The transformation is not of myself but simply how I do things.

Seems to me that change does not have to be wholesale to accomplish the goals. Change, transformation, altering certain things can make a significant difference in the outcomes. Change can be in diet, in life patterns, in thought-processing, in certain goals, and in apporaches to relationships, learning, behavior, and practice. It makes no sense to do the same thing in the same way over and over. Transforming yourself or even an institution does not have to mean changing your DNA (although some of that could occur I suppose, especially if you are a transformer), but it can mean changing the way you do something or seeking after alternate ways to deliver the same outcomes.

For me the transformation is to keep exercising but to do so in ways that save my feet! I sure don't like change though. It is always easiest to do the same thing in the same way. Sadly, it usually means the same results.

Saturday, August 06, 2011

Dry Ramblings

The dry weather seems to be affecting all of us lately. This area of Texas is as dry as I have ever experienced. The grass at our place is brown and the trees are struggling. We are on water restrictions now and the attitude is one of fear for the future. Without water, we cannot sustain the crops, the animals, or even our lives. It is an essential ingredient for living. Somehow I think too that the lack of water has zapped our energy. I find myself less productive in general due to the hot dry weather. Going outside feels like a wasteland and the beast of heat seems to be burden of depression working to infiltrate every pore, oppressing all in its path. It is just no fun at all.

Went to see Captain America the other day and was disappointed. Felt like a 4th grade comic book to me overall. I suppose it was well-done, energetic, lots of action, heroic, and intense, but also the emotional content was immature and shallow. Just another action film with too many computer graphics, flying things, kicking, shooting, getting the bad guys, etc. Kind of tired of the genre I guess.

I sure like the music of the Gettys. Keith and Krysten Getty continue to write and sing great songs of the faith. Their music is contemporary but retains the qualities of the great hymns. Melodic, textually driven, catchy, and creative, I like singing and leading their music. Speaking of music, I am bored with my playlist on my iPhone. Same old, same old. I am ready to listen to new things and seek out new sounds. Nothing is more boring to me than hearing and singing the same music over and over. Familiarity can breed respect and love but it can also breed contempt. Time to find something new.

This reminds me though of the great story, Bartholomew and the Oobleck. The King grows weary of the same kind of weather--rain, sunshine, snow, hail and urges his wisemen to invent something new. So they invent Oobleck, green globby things that eventually ruin the land and the people. Only when he apologizes does the Oobleck disappear. I hope my desire for new music does not end up like Oobleck. I suppose temperance for the new is always wise!

My running in the mornings is fairly consistent now but not quite what I seek. My goal is to run 5 miles a day, but I really struggle to make 4 every other day. Just not ready for the level of fitness 5 miles requires. But my heart rate is now below 60 and I generally feel energetic. Yet the darn feet hurt everyday also. It does take some kind of personal drive to run in the mornings. The easiest thing is to sit in my easy chair thinking of easy things. Running forces me to find something deeper inside me to come out. But it really is not all that fun. Is it really good for me?

No more overly processed, plastic tasting food. I almost cannot stand the idea of eating at a fast food restaurant these days. I think a diet of bread, water, leafy greens, fruits, fish, and other kind of organic foods is better. But finding good fish in this area is a toughie. We are pretty far from the ocean!

Kind of sad right now over Robert Parker. I think I have read every book he has written, or close to it. What a fine writer. On one level, his books are mystery/thrillers with plenty of action and violence. But on another level, his books are psychological and perceptive with a kind of social moralism not often found in action stories. Good stuff for sure.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Branded for Life

In 1846 during the Mexican War, when President Polk sent an army into Mexico to end the tyranny and stop the takeover of Santa Anna, General Winfield Scott along with officers Robert E. Lee, Thomas Jackson, Franklin Pierce, and Ullyses Grant, led troops to a difficult but resounding victory, ending the reign of Santa Anna. Like all wars, there were times of bloodshed, fear, confusion, sorrow, challenges, and moments of great elation. For all its glory (if there is glory in war), unfortunately during one of the final battles, nearly 80 soldiers deserted the army.

We are not sure why there are deserters in war. Perhaps fear of death, or maybe even abhorence of killing, maybe indifference as to the outcome, maybe a girlfriend back home, maybe a broad questioning of why there are wars, fighting, death. Apparently many of the deserters were not of American descent and had migrated from foreign countries only to find themselves in the army, fighting a war over which they had no interest in being killed or killing for some strange mysterious property rights dispute they did not understand. Whatever the reason, 80 soldiers deserted. 50 of them were hanged due to their lack of contrite behavior, their satisfaction with their decision, their own indifference. But 30 of them displayed great humility and gave lip service to their own culpability and shame for deserting. General Scott decided to spare their lives but leave them branded forever. These 30 men were branded with the letter D on their cheek to display to the world for the rest of their lives that they were deserters.

What did those 30 do for a living after leaving the army? Did they live prosperous lives, terrible lives, isolated from humanity, productive lives, lives of despair and agony? We have no record of those 30 and it would only be conjecture to imagine their lives as branded deserters. Maybe they would have preferred death over permanent label or maybe it didn't matter all that much to them? Maybe the physical mark has no bearing on the character inside and nothing changed about the branded people. Since there is little to gain from this type of hypothetical theorizing, let's spend a moment of self-reflection.

What would your brand be if you had one? Is a tattoo a type of brand, a sign displayed for everyone to see? In some ways, are we all branded by our appearance? Tall, short, bald, blonde, glasses, beard, eye color, and the list continues. We carry with us a mark of some kind everywhere we go. It may not be a big "D" on the cheek, but it is something, and that something somehow, perhaps wrongly, represents something of ourselves to others.

For the Christian, we cannot nor should we brand a big "C" on our cheek for all to see, yet in my mind we should try to carry our faith with us everywhere we go. Not in an overt, offensive manner but rather in a comfortable display of who we are. That brand may be a smile, a sparkle, a joy, or a look of confidence, or contentment, or compassion, perhaps even courage. There are many ways to demonstrate the love of God in our lives. As the hymn says, maybe it is time to "Let Others See Jesus in You."