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.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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!
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