Love them or hate them it is impossible to deny that the Grateful Dead was one of the most important bands in the history of rock and roll. Even though they never achieved the mainstream popularity that many of their peers enjoyed, their long-term impact on music certainly exceeds most. How many other bands spawned an entire genre of music? And while none of the contemporary jam bands have reached the height of greatness that the Dead achieved (yeah, I’m talking to you Phish!) 20 million wookies just can’t be wrong.
So it’s long overdue for us to try to pick our Top 10 Grateful Dead songs. This is an impossible task. My short-list of essential Dead tunes ran to about 70 songs – not including the many cover tunes that they truly made their own. In order to help whittle down the list here are the ground rules for the game:
1) Pick your 10 favorite Dead tunes – not the most popular or culturally important – just your personal favorites;
2) The song must appear on one of the 13 official Grateful Dead studio albums. I know, that means no Dark Star. Sorry, but it’s the only way to cull the list.
3) The song must be an original – no covers allowed. So, bye bye Minglewood!
I’m going to go first and, in a special Visions of Cody exclusive, long-time touch-head and show buddy Anonymous Best Friend (ABF) will provide his list. Here Goes:
Cody’s Top 10 Grateful Dead original songs that were released on a studio album
First, let me say that this was an impossible task and I hate myself for having to make these decisions. It was like Sophie’s Choice times a million. And I cheated big-time with the “studio only” rule - obviously “Europe ’72” is the greatest album that ever was or ever will be produced by modern man and I could have made a top 10 list off of that collection alone. Okay. Here’s the list in chronological order based on the stupid rules:
1) New Speedway Boogie (Workingman’s Dead): A beautiful example of Garcia/Hunter’s version of cosmic American music, this shuffle blues has it all – a prominent lead, space for soloing and huge sing-a-long potential.
2) Box of Rain (American Beauty): After all of these years I still have no idea what a box of rain is, but I know that it’s Phil’s most beautiful composition – a love song to his deceased father.
3) Stella Blue (Wake of the Flood): Sometimes Jerry exposed his vulnerabilities in songs of naked emotion, where his guitar and voice intertwine and elevate a simple song into something tender, soulful and otherworldly - and Stella Blue is the prime example of that type of song. It gives me chills every single time that I hear it (unless Warren is singing.)
4) Eyes of the World (Wake of the Flood): I’ll admit now that I’m primarily a Keith-era Dead fan. He brought the jazz to the Dead and Eyes is their jazziest composition. Of course, we’re all biased by the transcendent version featuring Branford Marsalis.
5) Weather Report Suite (Wake of the Flood): Bobby fans are people too! I love the cheese, I was always a Bobby fan, and I’ll die a Bobby fan. Working in the huge shadow of Captain Trips, Bobby is the most underrated songwriter of his era and WRS is his masterpiece.
6) Unbroken Chain (From the Mars Hotel): Another Phil song and the Dead’s most musically ambitious composition. The changes in this song are unreal. Phil is a genius.
7) Scarlet Begonias (From the Mars Hotel): Scarlet Begonias is the ultimate mood-lifter. You can’t help but get into a good mood when listening to it. It’s the quintessential Deadhead song – bouncy, trippy and jammy with great lyrics about hippie chicks and gambling. And when it’s paired with Fire on the Mountain it’s to die for!
8) Ship of Fools (From the Mars Hotel): Yet another song from Mars Hotel, yet another great Jerry ballad. Mars Hotel may be their best album (excepting Money Money, of course.)
9) Help on the Way/Slipknot!/Franklin’s Tower (Blues for Allah): Yeah, I’m cheating on this one and combining three tracks into one. Help/Slip/Frank is too perfect, with the iconic opening of Help, the face melting jam of slip and the twirl inducing Franklin’s. It’s so good it hurts.
10) Feel Like a Stranger (Go to Heaven): Nothing says “tour” like Stranger and when Bobby and Brent trade off at the end you just want to burst! This song really captures the strengths of Brent-era Dead for me – his organ, his voice, the disco!
Closing thoughts: the Grateful Dead are even better than I thought and I really, really love the Keith era (10/19/71 – 2/17/79).
ABF’s Top 10 Grateful Dead original songs that were released on a studio album
I compiled this while eating a grilled cheese sandwich (except mine cost $6.50 and it wasn't gross at all) in my office...ironic? I'd say so.
It's hard to narrow down my favorite Dead tunes, even harder when the rules of this little game require that they A) be Grateful Dead originals, which eliminates all of the solo stuff and B) have to have been released on a Grateful Dead studio album…which means no Jack Straw, no Playin’ in the Band, Looks Like Rain, So Many Roads, Scarlet Begonias (ed. note: wrong!), or Self Defense (just checking to see if you’re paying attention).
A couple of things came to mind as I looked through the Dead's discography. First, they really put out a lot of studio albums. Second, some of them suck (I'm talking to you Anthem of the Sun and Built to Last!). And finally, because almost all of the stuff we listen to is from live shows, there were a couple of albums that I’ve overlooked. Everyone knows American Beauty and Workingman’s are great, but Mars Hotel and Wake of the Flood are loaded with gems!
So here they are, listed from 10-1. Enjoy.
10) “Stella Blue” from Wake of the Flood
It’s funny to start with this one because I just told you yesterday it wasn’t going to make the cut. Then I listened to two different versions on the ride home last night and I realized how wrong I was. This list was a great idea if, for nothing else, it made me look back through the archives to rediscover some lost classics.
9) “Lost Sailor” from Go To Heaven
We’ve said it so many times before, “I like my ‘Sailor’ extra sappy and my ‘Saint’ extra cheesy.” Well, the Sailor part is my favorite. I don’t know what to make of this guy but he’s been drifting around chasing the dream for like 30 years. But when Bobby tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes to scream “you’re a LOOOOOST SAI-LOR” it just makes me happy.
8) "Touch of Grey" from In the Dark
What is there to say? Jerry almost dies and goes into a coma, comes back in December of 1986 and just rips it up in Oakland, opening the show with 30,000 people singing along "WE-WILL-SURVIVE!" Aside from that, it was the Dead's only top 10 hit and the song that introduced a whole new generation of music fans, including you and me, to life on the bus.
7) “Ship of Fools” from From the Mars Hotel
I’m not even sure what the hell this song is about, but I love the melody and I think you get some of Jerry’s best ballad solos from some of the 74 and 77 shows.
6) “Weather Report Suite” from Wake of the Flood
This is on the list because RatDog has taken it to a new level. An obvious masterpiece from a musical standpoint, WRS was always a second tier favorite of mine…and then Kenny Brooks came along (who Bobby once called “better than canned beer”). Adding the sax brought so much more depth to an already deep piece. And to be honest, I’m not even that big a fan of the “Let it Grow” portion of the suite. But the rest of it is so freakin good it more than makes up for it.
5) “If I Had the World to Give” from Shakedown Street
Robert Hunter had such unbelievable talent for writing love songs. This one was only played 3 times in concert (I looked that one up on the Wiki), all in 1978. I bought Shakedown on cassette in 1986 and immediately realized that anyone who sang this to his girl-du-jour would be getting very, very lucky that night. Unfortunately, I was so incompetent back then with the opposite sex (ed note: back then?), the song was no good to me whatsoever. Now that I think about it, maybe I should take it off the top 10.
4) “Brokedown Palace” from American Beauty
“It’s a fargone lullaby sung many years ago, mama mama many worlds I’ve come since I first left home.” I remember this one so vividly from December 6, 1992. It was a gorgeous Arizona afternoon and the boys were awesome! Opening with the first HCS in 18 years, two solid sets, and a sweeter than sweet Brokedown for the encore. Something about that particular one put it on my permanent top 10 forever.
3) “Attics of My Life” from American Beauty
I don’t know what to say. I just really like this one. I think it shows that trying to label Grateful Dead music into some sort of box is impossible (unless it’s a box of rain, duh!). You can’t call them a rock band, or a jazz band, or folk, or bluegrass. They just are what they are and if they want to do an (almost) a capella piece, damn it they’re doing it.
2) “Shakedown Street” from Shakedown Street
You hear those first few bars… WHOMP, WHOMP, WHOMP…whomp-whomp-wha-wha-WHOMP and it’s immediately recognized as the disco-era hit. Shakedown was always a fan favorite (especially when paired with a good Estimated Prophet) but also was so much more because of the parking lot antics of the same name. Every time I heard Shakedown live I thought to all of those outside hawking god-knows-what for gas money to Red Rocks.
1) "Eyes of the World" from Wake of the Flood
The Grateful Dead's greatest masterpiece. A great rhythm, good tempo, solid lyrics, and depending on the version (this song can ONLY be listened to live) you get the very best that Jerry Garcia could give you! Add to that the two times that Branford Marsalis sat in (1990) and Kenny Brooks now shredding it on a weekly basis with Ratdog, and "Eyes" has become a treat each and every time you hear it.
{Final ed. note: A 20 year friendship and I don’t even really know you. “If I had the world to give”? Seriously? What is wrong with you? But we legitimately agree on 4 out of 10, so that’s reassuring. We’ll have to do this again with the bottom 5. Oh wait – that’s too easy – Money Money, Never Trust a Woman, Samba in the Rain, Blues for Allah & What’s Become of the Baby.}
Okay, if anyone else wants to play along please feel free to link back to this entry or to leave your list/critique in the comments.
“Playing in the Band”/Bob Weir/Ace
Friday, November 21, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Bran Nu Swetta
Or, How I Stopped Worrying and (Briefly) Embraced Hip Hop Culture (A play in 11 Acts)
1
Historically I haven’t been terribly well versed in hip hop culture. The last rap album that I purchased was “Paul’s Boutique” by the Beastie Boys in 1989. That purchase doubled my rap tape collection, joining Ice-T’s “Power”. When kids at school would rave about NWA or Digital Underground I would nod along and pretend that I was interested. But I really wasn’t.
2
My fashion sense has been decidedly non-urban as well. Actually, there was that brief period when grunge and hip hop shared an appreciation of denim and flannel that worked for me. Otherwise, I’ve never been hip. The one time I tried to be hip was a disaster. I convinced my parents to let me buy a pair of red high-top Nikes. They weren’t sure that I would wear them. I insisted that I would. They were right.
3
Checking into the Four Seasons I was surprisingly upscale, wearing a suit and nice shoes. Sure, it was my ‘fat suit’ but they were unaware that my ‘skinny suit’ was still hanging in the closet at home, begging to be let out a smidge. Planning outfits ahead of time isn’t my strongest suit. Thanks to my fancy threads they treated me like a respectable, upscale businessman. That always makes me a little uncomfortable. My inner wookie recoils at such treatment.
4
I need to remind myself that just because I’m not cold at home when I’m packing my black wheely bag doesn’t mean that I won’t be cold in the future. And since I was wearing my suit I already had a jacket on. But I’d soon come to realize that it’s currently very, very cold in Chicago and I didn’t have a jacket.
5
After my meeting was over the need for a jacket or sweatshirt became urgent. I hit a department store hoping for a cheap sweatshirt or fleece. As I was not willing to pay $200 for an emergency sweatshirt I left. Why do clothes cost so much money? The same thing happened in the Puma store – over $100 for a thin jacket or sweatshirt. I was running out of time and it was steadily getting colder.
6
I finally happened upon a store called Urban Outfitters. I’ve heard that the kids like it. There’s one on the corner of Newbury and Mass. Ave. back home but I’ve never been in it, as I’m neither urban nor in need of outfitting. But it was my last hope.
7
Urban clothes are apparently no cheaper than their suburban counterparts. I spent a good 20 minutes trying to find that sweet spot between warmth and low cost. On the sale rack I finally found a winner – a beige and brown plaid hoodie jacket sweatshirt ensemble for $30. It fit, it was relatively cheap and it was warmer than nothing. I bought it.
8
Heading back to the hotel I started to enjoy the new hip hop me. Hood up, hands thrust in pockets I dreamed of comfortable baggy jeans and wearing coordinated sweatsuits to work. I pictured myself in crazy hats with straights brims. I saw the future me and I liked what I saw.
9
My new sense of cool was short-lived. My former friends at the Four Seasons turned out to be of the fair-weather kind. Not only did they no longer treat me like an upscale businessman, but they actually treated me like a criminal! People visible shied away from me in the elevator. Even the ladies weren’t hitting on me anymore. How dare they judge me based on my clothes! I’ll show them! Hip Hop Cody is here to stay!
10
(Picking up my wife at the train station the next day, proudly wearing my new hoodie.)
“What are you wearing? You look ridiculous! I wasn’t even sure it was you – I actually had to check the license plate to make sure. Where did you get that hideous thing? That’s going straight in the bum pile.”
11
The End.
“Bran Nu Swetta”/Digital Underground/The Body-Hat Syndrome
1
Historically I haven’t been terribly well versed in hip hop culture. The last rap album that I purchased was “Paul’s Boutique” by the Beastie Boys in 1989. That purchase doubled my rap tape collection, joining Ice-T’s “Power”. When kids at school would rave about NWA or Digital Underground I would nod along and pretend that I was interested. But I really wasn’t.
2
My fashion sense has been decidedly non-urban as well. Actually, there was that brief period when grunge and hip hop shared an appreciation of denim and flannel that worked for me. Otherwise, I’ve never been hip. The one time I tried to be hip was a disaster. I convinced my parents to let me buy a pair of red high-top Nikes. They weren’t sure that I would wear them. I insisted that I would. They were right.
3
Checking into the Four Seasons I was surprisingly upscale, wearing a suit and nice shoes. Sure, it was my ‘fat suit’ but they were unaware that my ‘skinny suit’ was still hanging in the closet at home, begging to be let out a smidge. Planning outfits ahead of time isn’t my strongest suit. Thanks to my fancy threads they treated me like a respectable, upscale businessman. That always makes me a little uncomfortable. My inner wookie recoils at such treatment.
4
I need to remind myself that just because I’m not cold at home when I’m packing my black wheely bag doesn’t mean that I won’t be cold in the future. And since I was wearing my suit I already had a jacket on. But I’d soon come to realize that it’s currently very, very cold in Chicago and I didn’t have a jacket.
5
After my meeting was over the need for a jacket or sweatshirt became urgent. I hit a department store hoping for a cheap sweatshirt or fleece. As I was not willing to pay $200 for an emergency sweatshirt I left. Why do clothes cost so much money? The same thing happened in the Puma store – over $100 for a thin jacket or sweatshirt. I was running out of time and it was steadily getting colder.
6
I finally happened upon a store called Urban Outfitters. I’ve heard that the kids like it. There’s one on the corner of Newbury and Mass. Ave. back home but I’ve never been in it, as I’m neither urban nor in need of outfitting. But it was my last hope.
7
Urban clothes are apparently no cheaper than their suburban counterparts. I spent a good 20 minutes trying to find that sweet spot between warmth and low cost. On the sale rack I finally found a winner – a beige and brown plaid hoodie jacket sweatshirt ensemble for $30. It fit, it was relatively cheap and it was warmer than nothing. I bought it.
8
Heading back to the hotel I started to enjoy the new hip hop me. Hood up, hands thrust in pockets I dreamed of comfortable baggy jeans and wearing coordinated sweatsuits to work. I pictured myself in crazy hats with straights brims. I saw the future me and I liked what I saw.
9
My new sense of cool was short-lived. My former friends at the Four Seasons turned out to be of the fair-weather kind. Not only did they no longer treat me like an upscale businessman, but they actually treated me like a criminal! People visible shied away from me in the elevator. Even the ladies weren’t hitting on me anymore. How dare they judge me based on my clothes! I’ll show them! Hip Hop Cody is here to stay!
10
(Picking up my wife at the train station the next day, proudly wearing my new hoodie.)
“What are you wearing? You look ridiculous! I wasn’t even sure it was you – I actually had to check the license plate to make sure. Where did you get that hideous thing? That’s going straight in the bum pile.”
11
The End.
“Bran Nu Swetta”/Digital Underground/The Body-Hat Syndrome
Monday, November 17, 2008
Strong Enough
Called in to audition for the same client for the fifth time in as many weeks I wondered why they were even bothering with me again. The scripts were basically the same. It’s not like my voice was going to sound any different than it did during the four previous readings. Logically, the results probably wouldn’t be any different either, i.e. I wouldn’t be getting the job.
Voice-over actors, from the famous voices that perform Hollywood features to the anonymous voices (like me) that do regional commercials, have to be a thick-skinned lot to survive in the bidness. Just about every audition involves failure. You lose jobs not because you suck (well, I suck frequently enough) but because your voice just ‘wasn’t right’ for the project. So, you keep going to auditions, you keep reading scripts and you keep hoping for the best, with only your faith in your own abilities to keep you motivated in the face of overwhelming failure.
This time, knowing that I had nothing to lose, I decided that I would try something different for the audition. I decided to embrace an old acting cliché. I decided that I would make strong choices.
In the acting world (of which I’m ever-so-slightly affiliated) to make a strong choice is to decide to fully commit to a specific, unique approach to the role. It’s a risky move because if the direction you pick is wrong then you’ll have no shot of getting the job. But the upside is that you give yourself the chance to stand apart from the crowd, and with a little luck, maybe even get the job.
So often in life we don’t make strong choices. We fall into our familiar, comfortable, low-risk patterns of behavior. And sometimes it takes just a little fearlessness to get us out of our self-imposed prisons.
At the audition I decided to make strong choices. It felt great. I still doubt that I’ll get the job (you don’t need to tell me ‘no’ five times for me to get the message!) but I was really happy with my performance. I made strong choices. I fully committed to them. The rest is out of my hands, but I did my part.
***
Going to Bikram class for the fifth time in as many weeks I wondered when I would start getting my old Bikram mojo back. The sequence was going to be the same. The room was going to as hot as ever. But with four classes under my belt I was ready to move past mere ‘survival mode’ and start to challenge myself to do a little more.
I had a few excuses cued up before class even started. It was date night on Saturday and fish, chips and beers is hardly a sattvic meal. After watching ‘Quantum of Solace’ at the theater we got sucked into watching ‘Die Another Day’ on TV at home (for comparative purposes, of course.) Bedtime was at 2 and our little guy uncharacteristically woke before 7, so I was going on less than 5 hours of sleep. I could definitely excuse myself for a weak performance in class.
But after setting up my mat I heard an ominous voice remind me to “make strong choices” and I realized that the advice was good for more than just auditions. I realized that making strong choices is something that we can choose to do every day in every situation in life.
In class I decided to make two strong choices:
The first was to fully engage my muscles in each and every posture for the entire duration of the pose. I would ignore the old ‘fear of injury’ excuse and try to really “lock the knee” and hold it for 60 seconds.
The second was to not fall out of poses early. Sometimes in class you lose your balance and legitimately “fall” out of a pose. Most of the time, however, you consciously choose to fall early due to physical or mental fatigue.
All in all I was pretty successful. I only fell out early twice and I kept the muscles engaged about 75% of the time. I’ll keep working on getting to 100%, but it wasn’t a bad start - especially considering that I got so little sleep and was full of fish, chips and beer!
(What, you didn’t think I was going to waste those great excuses, did you?)
***
So that’s my new thing – to make strong choices. From now on (or until I forget) I’m going to make strong choices and I’m going to see them through. And I’m not going to worry about the results of my actions, either.
And eventually that damn phone company will cave and I’ll voice one of their radio spots.
And eventually I’ll keep my muscles fully engaged while never falling out of a pose early.
But even if those things don’t happen, I’ll still be happy with myself for honestly trying.
Karma before punya!
“Strong Enough”/Sheryl Crow/Tuesday Night Music Club
Voice-over actors, from the famous voices that perform Hollywood features to the anonymous voices (like me) that do regional commercials, have to be a thick-skinned lot to survive in the bidness. Just about every audition involves failure. You lose jobs not because you suck (well, I suck frequently enough) but because your voice just ‘wasn’t right’ for the project. So, you keep going to auditions, you keep reading scripts and you keep hoping for the best, with only your faith in your own abilities to keep you motivated in the face of overwhelming failure.
This time, knowing that I had nothing to lose, I decided that I would try something different for the audition. I decided to embrace an old acting cliché. I decided that I would make strong choices.
In the acting world (of which I’m ever-so-slightly affiliated) to make a strong choice is to decide to fully commit to a specific, unique approach to the role. It’s a risky move because if the direction you pick is wrong then you’ll have no shot of getting the job. But the upside is that you give yourself the chance to stand apart from the crowd, and with a little luck, maybe even get the job.
So often in life we don’t make strong choices. We fall into our familiar, comfortable, low-risk patterns of behavior. And sometimes it takes just a little fearlessness to get us out of our self-imposed prisons.
At the audition I decided to make strong choices. It felt great. I still doubt that I’ll get the job (you don’t need to tell me ‘no’ five times for me to get the message!) but I was really happy with my performance. I made strong choices. I fully committed to them. The rest is out of my hands, but I did my part.
***
Going to Bikram class for the fifth time in as many weeks I wondered when I would start getting my old Bikram mojo back. The sequence was going to be the same. The room was going to as hot as ever. But with four classes under my belt I was ready to move past mere ‘survival mode’ and start to challenge myself to do a little more.
I had a few excuses cued up before class even started. It was date night on Saturday and fish, chips and beers is hardly a sattvic meal. After watching ‘Quantum of Solace’ at the theater we got sucked into watching ‘Die Another Day’ on TV at home (for comparative purposes, of course.) Bedtime was at 2 and our little guy uncharacteristically woke before 7, so I was going on less than 5 hours of sleep. I could definitely excuse myself for a weak performance in class.
But after setting up my mat I heard an ominous voice remind me to “make strong choices” and I realized that the advice was good for more than just auditions. I realized that making strong choices is something that we can choose to do every day in every situation in life.
In class I decided to make two strong choices:
The first was to fully engage my muscles in each and every posture for the entire duration of the pose. I would ignore the old ‘fear of injury’ excuse and try to really “lock the knee” and hold it for 60 seconds.
The second was to not fall out of poses early. Sometimes in class you lose your balance and legitimately “fall” out of a pose. Most of the time, however, you consciously choose to fall early due to physical or mental fatigue.
All in all I was pretty successful. I only fell out early twice and I kept the muscles engaged about 75% of the time. I’ll keep working on getting to 100%, but it wasn’t a bad start - especially considering that I got so little sleep and was full of fish, chips and beer!
(What, you didn’t think I was going to waste those great excuses, did you?)
***
So that’s my new thing – to make strong choices. From now on (or until I forget) I’m going to make strong choices and I’m going to see them through. And I’m not going to worry about the results of my actions, either.
And eventually that damn phone company will cave and I’ll voice one of their radio spots.
And eventually I’ll keep my muscles fully engaged while never falling out of a pose early.
But even if those things don’t happen, I’ll still be happy with myself for honestly trying.
Karma before punya!
“Strong Enough”/Sheryl Crow/Tuesday Night Music Club
Friday, November 14, 2008
Old King
While many people will scratch and fight and basically do anything they can to avoid getting old, there is a small minority of individuals (okay, just me) that actually enjoys aging. I’m guessing it’s because as a child I was blessed with three glorious old men in my life – my two dearly departed grandfathers and my beloved writing idol, Andy Rooney.
I love old men, with their lax hygiene and their stubbornness. I love their rambling, pointless stories about multiple unnamed characters. I love their complaining about anything and everything. And I especially love their old man cars.
Oh my, do I ever love their old man cars. Give me a Lincoln or a Mercury any day. If I had the money I would single-handedly save the American car industry. I dream of one day owning a Cadillac and putting a box of tissues and a navy cap on the rear shelf. I love that fabric roof top that looks like a convertible but isn’t. I love driving a little too slowly and drifting over the center line a little too much. And I love getting mad at anyone that tries to tell me to pay attention to the road.
But my big problem is that time moves so damn slowly. I’m just not getting old fast enough. It’s taken me practically a whole lifetime to get to 37 and I’m not sure that I have the patience to wait another 33 years until I’m officially pronounced old (I’m calling 70 old these days).
To ease my fractured nerves, I’ve been thinking about some of the signs of aging so that I can anticipate and celebrate them as they happen. You know, I’m just looking for a few positive markers to keep me motivated during my long journey.
So today, I’m excited for the day when I can no longer feel the roof of my mouth.
Let me explain. If you’ve ever worked in a restaurant (I was a cook for 7+ years) then you know that soup can never be hot enough for an old person. No matter how bubbling, boiling, scalding or steaming the soup is upon delivery, it absolutely won’t be hot enough for an old person. I’ve served thousands of bowls of soup in my day and I have never once heard an old person say “that’s too hot!” (Although I did once hear an old lady say “that’s hot!” like Paris Hilton and it haunted me for months.)
Since the same exact thing happens with old people and their coffee, my educated guess is that old people must lose all sensation on the roof of their mouths at a certain point in their lives. My palette, on the other hand, is still as sensitive as a baby’s bottom. In fact, just yesterday the roof of my mouth got all “skin-y” from an overly vigorous toothbrushing session.
Speaking of coffee, why do old people drink it with everything? Next time you’re in a diner sneak a peek at the old people and you’ll see that they all drink coffee (black, maybe decaf) no matter what time of day it is or what they’re eating. Coffee and an english muffin? Sure. Coffee and a tuna fish sandwich? Of course. Coffee and spaghetti? Why not?
So, as I was saying…wait, what was the point of this essay again?
Hey! I really am getting old! Hooray for me!
“Old King”/Neil Young/Harvest Moon
I love old men, with their lax hygiene and their stubbornness. I love their rambling, pointless stories about multiple unnamed characters. I love their complaining about anything and everything. And I especially love their old man cars.
Oh my, do I ever love their old man cars. Give me a Lincoln or a Mercury any day. If I had the money I would single-handedly save the American car industry. I dream of one day owning a Cadillac and putting a box of tissues and a navy cap on the rear shelf. I love that fabric roof top that looks like a convertible but isn’t. I love driving a little too slowly and drifting over the center line a little too much. And I love getting mad at anyone that tries to tell me to pay attention to the road.
But my big problem is that time moves so damn slowly. I’m just not getting old fast enough. It’s taken me practically a whole lifetime to get to 37 and I’m not sure that I have the patience to wait another 33 years until I’m officially pronounced old (I’m calling 70 old these days).
To ease my fractured nerves, I’ve been thinking about some of the signs of aging so that I can anticipate and celebrate them as they happen. You know, I’m just looking for a few positive markers to keep me motivated during my long journey.
So today, I’m excited for the day when I can no longer feel the roof of my mouth.
Let me explain. If you’ve ever worked in a restaurant (I was a cook for 7+ years) then you know that soup can never be hot enough for an old person. No matter how bubbling, boiling, scalding or steaming the soup is upon delivery, it absolutely won’t be hot enough for an old person. I’ve served thousands of bowls of soup in my day and I have never once heard an old person say “that’s too hot!” (Although I did once hear an old lady say “that’s hot!” like Paris Hilton and it haunted me for months.)
Since the same exact thing happens with old people and their coffee, my educated guess is that old people must lose all sensation on the roof of their mouths at a certain point in their lives. My palette, on the other hand, is still as sensitive as a baby’s bottom. In fact, just yesterday the roof of my mouth got all “skin-y” from an overly vigorous toothbrushing session.
Speaking of coffee, why do old people drink it with everything? Next time you’re in a diner sneak a peek at the old people and you’ll see that they all drink coffee (black, maybe decaf) no matter what time of day it is or what they’re eating. Coffee and an english muffin? Sure. Coffee and a tuna fish sandwich? Of course. Coffee and spaghetti? Why not?
So, as I was saying…wait, what was the point of this essay again?
Hey! I really am getting old! Hooray for me!
“Old King”/Neil Young/Harvest Moon
Thursday, November 13, 2008
VOC Podcast Episode 33
Sure, everyone wants to be the perfect Yogi. But who has the time to fit in all of the practices? This week, Cody talks about where he falls short.
Click here to listen to episode 33
Click here to subscribe to the VOC Podcast via iTunes
visionsofcody.net
Click here to listen to episode 33
Click here to subscribe to the VOC Podcast via iTunes
visionsofcody.net
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Days Between
Concert Review:
Bob Weir & RatDog
The Orpheum
Boston, MA
11-08-08
Do you remember that "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" bit from Tennyson? Well, that’s the theme for today’s RatDog review. As you’ll recall, 3 short weeks ago I was raving about seeing the Black Crowes at the Boston Opera House and moving our pre-show festivities to Silvertone’s. Well, on Saturday night we were back at the Orpheum to see Weir and we returned to Fajitas & Ritas for the pre-show. And the same description can be applied to both locales: dirty and disappointing.
RatDog on the other hand can be described thusly: some good, some bad and a whole lot of cheese. In other words, it was your average Saturday night with Bobby and the boys!
The good news was that Mark Karan was back on guitar, looking good and playing fine, after his successful battle with cancer. As nice as it was to see Steve Kimock play with the band when Mark was sick, Mark fits Bobby’s vision for the band better. People forget that RatDog is primarily a jazz band and Kimock hews closer to Phil’s 1968-esque psychedelic vision of the post-Jerry Dead. Bobby is all about the jazz. And the cheese. Always the cheese.
Onto the songs…
Set 1:
Jam-Jack Straw: Let the record show that I predicted this opener on Friday and I have the e-mail to prove it. Actually, I was psychically tuned in all night and called just about every song correctly. Some among us may claim to have called songs first, but there’s a big difference between guessing what song is next and calling it off of the opening chords. Jack Straw was excellent as always.
Easy to Slip: And the cheese comes early! This is an excellent Bobby solo (cover) tune and it was a treat to catch live again. Nice version. I was hoping for a Supplication jam, but was apparently getting ahead of myself.
Bird Song: RatDog, buoyed by Kenny’s sax, does a creditable version of Bird Song, but this song’s strength always came from Jerry’s delicate vocal and playing. I’m not sure that anyone can capture that same spirit. And credit to ABF, he predicted a mellow show and the Slip-Bird combo definitely set the tone for a mellow night. Unfortunately, the jam got a little Jazz Explosion-y at the end.
Book of Rules: Damn you, Bobby! Look, I respect that you honor your influences, but no one wants to hear that weak-ass Heptones reggae shit. PB time.
All Along the Watchtower: And now we’ve officially entered the first set dead zone. Coming after Book of Rules I was fully expecting the reggae breakdown at the end, but thankfully we were spared. Honestly, unless Hendrix rises from the grave I don’t need to hear Watchtower anymore.
Lazy River Road: Now some may make the case that Bobby has been overplaying LRR the last few years but I really love this song and I’d be happy to hear it just about every night. RatDog just owns this song – the tempo is perfect, the vibe is great and the multiple solos are beautiful. I’m always happy to get a Lazy River Road.
Supplication Jam: There’s that Supplication jam that I was expecting! It’s a great jam, traditionally paired with Lazy Lightning but more recently with Easy to Slip.
Bertha: A good, high energy closer to the set and a well-played version at that.
Set 2:
K.C. Moan: the acoustic portion started with a great K.C. Moan, always one of Bobby’s strongest cowboy songs.
Friend of the Devil: another strong acoustic number, FOTD is one of those overplayed songs that you can still enjoy hearing live.
Masters of War: Yikes! We sure got the short-end of the Dylan covers tonight. Hey Bobby – newsflash - Obama won! We don’t need the 10 minute anti-war folk dirge anymore! Masters is a classic, but it’s Saturday night and the war criminal party just got voted out of office. How about a Silvio-Tequila instead?
West L.A. Fadeaway: West L.A. is one of those rare songs that RatDog does better than the GD ever did. I enjoyed this version, but you’ll note that we got yet another long, slow song dropped on us. Energy flagging…
Good Lovin’: …and the energy is back! Good Lovin’ is a song that I’d never go out of my way to hear, but Bobby rocks it and they played it quite well - and finally we got an upbeat number. Let’s hope for two…
Stuff: Aw crap, is it time for Stuff (a.k.a. Jazz Explosion mach 2) already? Alright, I’m sitting down and zoning out for this one.
Days Between: By Great Phil’s Ghost, another long slow song! WTF, Bobby? I like Days Between but it’s the kind of song that you want to hear at home, not during a Saturday night show. And you just know what’s coming next…
Bird Song Reprise: Just in case the first 15 minutes of Bird Song didn’t put you to sleep…it’s back!
One More Saturday Night: Unlike others, I’ll never complain about the OMSN second set closer. It's part of the RatDog fanboy contract – just check your fine print.
E: Ripple: I always love the Ripple closer, a suitably chill song to round out a surprisingly mellow night.
As you can guess, it was another Epic show.
Just kidding. It was an average show at best - too low energy for a Saturday and no real gems. In fact, Good Lovin’ and Days Between were the only RD first timers for me, and neither was all that special. The playing was good (these guys are seasoned pros after all) but not inspired.
But, hey, I’m not complaining. Even with the weak setlist and terrible seats (from mail order, no less!) we all know that what we’re really getting for the price of admission is a brief journey back in time – a chance to hang out with friends, listen to the music we love, soak in the patchouli and remember when every day was like a Saturday night at the dirty old Orpheum.
There were days, and there were days
And there were days I know
When all we ever wanted
Was to learn and love and grow
Once we grew into our shoes
We told them where to go
Walked halfway around the world
On promise of the glow
Stood upon a mountain top
Walked barefoot in the snow
Gave the best we had to give
How much we'll never know
We'll never know
(But next time, Bobby, could you please play the Opera House?)
“Days Between”/Grateful Dead/So Many Roads
Bob Weir & RatDog
The Orpheum
Boston, MA
11-08-08
Do you remember that "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" bit from Tennyson? Well, that’s the theme for today’s RatDog review. As you’ll recall, 3 short weeks ago I was raving about seeing the Black Crowes at the Boston Opera House and moving our pre-show festivities to Silvertone’s. Well, on Saturday night we were back at the Orpheum to see Weir and we returned to Fajitas & Ritas for the pre-show. And the same description can be applied to both locales: dirty and disappointing.
RatDog on the other hand can be described thusly: some good, some bad and a whole lot of cheese. In other words, it was your average Saturday night with Bobby and the boys!
The good news was that Mark Karan was back on guitar, looking good and playing fine, after his successful battle with cancer. As nice as it was to see Steve Kimock play with the band when Mark was sick, Mark fits Bobby’s vision for the band better. People forget that RatDog is primarily a jazz band and Kimock hews closer to Phil’s 1968-esque psychedelic vision of the post-Jerry Dead. Bobby is all about the jazz. And the cheese. Always the cheese.
Onto the songs…
Set 1:
Jam-Jack Straw: Let the record show that I predicted this opener on Friday and I have the e-mail to prove it. Actually, I was psychically tuned in all night and called just about every song correctly. Some among us may claim to have called songs first, but there’s a big difference between guessing what song is next and calling it off of the opening chords. Jack Straw was excellent as always.
Easy to Slip: And the cheese comes early! This is an excellent Bobby solo (cover) tune and it was a treat to catch live again. Nice version. I was hoping for a Supplication jam, but was apparently getting ahead of myself.
Bird Song: RatDog, buoyed by Kenny’s sax, does a creditable version of Bird Song, but this song’s strength always came from Jerry’s delicate vocal and playing. I’m not sure that anyone can capture that same spirit. And credit to ABF, he predicted a mellow show and the Slip-Bird combo definitely set the tone for a mellow night. Unfortunately, the jam got a little Jazz Explosion-y at the end.
Book of Rules: Damn you, Bobby! Look, I respect that you honor your influences, but no one wants to hear that weak-ass Heptones reggae shit. PB time.
All Along the Watchtower: And now we’ve officially entered the first set dead zone. Coming after Book of Rules I was fully expecting the reggae breakdown at the end, but thankfully we were spared. Honestly, unless Hendrix rises from the grave I don’t need to hear Watchtower anymore.
Lazy River Road: Now some may make the case that Bobby has been overplaying LRR the last few years but I really love this song and I’d be happy to hear it just about every night. RatDog just owns this song – the tempo is perfect, the vibe is great and the multiple solos are beautiful. I’m always happy to get a Lazy River Road.
Supplication Jam: There’s that Supplication jam that I was expecting! It’s a great jam, traditionally paired with Lazy Lightning but more recently with Easy to Slip.
Bertha: A good, high energy closer to the set and a well-played version at that.
Set 2:
K.C. Moan: the acoustic portion started with a great K.C. Moan, always one of Bobby’s strongest cowboy songs.
Friend of the Devil: another strong acoustic number, FOTD is one of those overplayed songs that you can still enjoy hearing live.
Masters of War: Yikes! We sure got the short-end of the Dylan covers tonight. Hey Bobby – newsflash - Obama won! We don’t need the 10 minute anti-war folk dirge anymore! Masters is a classic, but it’s Saturday night and the war criminal party just got voted out of office. How about a Silvio-Tequila instead?
West L.A. Fadeaway: West L.A. is one of those rare songs that RatDog does better than the GD ever did. I enjoyed this version, but you’ll note that we got yet another long, slow song dropped on us. Energy flagging…
Good Lovin’: …and the energy is back! Good Lovin’ is a song that I’d never go out of my way to hear, but Bobby rocks it and they played it quite well - and finally we got an upbeat number. Let’s hope for two…
Stuff: Aw crap, is it time for Stuff (a.k.a. Jazz Explosion mach 2) already? Alright, I’m sitting down and zoning out for this one.
Days Between: By Great Phil’s Ghost, another long slow song! WTF, Bobby? I like Days Between but it’s the kind of song that you want to hear at home, not during a Saturday night show. And you just know what’s coming next…
Bird Song Reprise: Just in case the first 15 minutes of Bird Song didn’t put you to sleep…it’s back!
One More Saturday Night: Unlike others, I’ll never complain about the OMSN second set closer. It's part of the RatDog fanboy contract – just check your fine print.
E: Ripple: I always love the Ripple closer, a suitably chill song to round out a surprisingly mellow night.
As you can guess, it was another Epic show.
Just kidding. It was an average show at best - too low energy for a Saturday and no real gems. In fact, Good Lovin’ and Days Between were the only RD first timers for me, and neither was all that special. The playing was good (these guys are seasoned pros after all) but not inspired.
But, hey, I’m not complaining. Even with the weak setlist and terrible seats (from mail order, no less!) we all know that what we’re really getting for the price of admission is a brief journey back in time – a chance to hang out with friends, listen to the music we love, soak in the patchouli and remember when every day was like a Saturday night at the dirty old Orpheum.
There were days, and there were days
And there were days I know
When all we ever wanted
Was to learn and love and grow
Once we grew into our shoes
We told them where to go
Walked halfway around the world
On promise of the glow
Stood upon a mountain top
Walked barefoot in the snow
Gave the best we had to give
How much we'll never know
We'll never know
(But next time, Bobby, could you please play the Opera House?)
“Days Between”/Grateful Dead/So Many Roads
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Back in Black
Although I haven’t been writing about yoga much these last few weeks, I’ve been bending as much as ever, which is pretty much every day except for Saturday. And Moon Days when I remember to celebrate them. Or arbitrarily move them.
I’m happy to report that my brief flirtation with vinyasa krama appears to be over. And while I certainly enjoyed reading Srivatsa Ramaswami’s books and playing with his sequences, I forgot one key point:
I really like having a set sequence.
You see, the major downside of vinyasa style yoga is…the overpowering smell of the ham and cheese sandwich that the man sitting next to me on the train is eating. Who in their right mind wolfs down a pre-packaged ham sandwich at 6:15 on a Friday night? Woo hoo! Let’s get this weekend party started! Who’s down for a hammy on the commuter rail?
Ooops. Pratyahara. Pratyahara.
You see, the major downside of vinyasa style yoga is the lack of a set sequence. I love the set sequence. No thinking about which pose comes next. No unconsciously hiding from hated poses. And the best part is that you create a consistent benchmark for observing the daily changes in your body.
Yup, I’ve sure got a thing for yoga styles with set sequences. Like Ashtanga…and Bikram.
There. I’ve said it. I’m now practicing a mixture of Ashtanga and Bikram. And I’ve been going to Bikram classes again. And I like it!
Over the last month I’ve fine tuned my home practice sequence into a synthesis of the Ashtanga standing sequence and the Bikram back strengthening series, with a few bonus postures mixed in here and there. It’s truly amazing. Yes, I say that about every home sequence that I cook up, but you’re definitely going to want to take this baby out for a test drive.
Going back to Bikram classes with my very first yoga teacher has been enlightening. It’s crazy to observe my postural strengths and weaknesses. For example, I totally rock the Bikram trikonasana (which is a variation on parsvokanasa with a different arm position) but I’m still struggling to get back many of the other poses, like I can no longer comfortably get my forehead on my knee in Dandayamana Bibhaktapada Janushirshasana (which is a variation on parvottanasana.)
My biggest struggle is still with ‘locking the knee’ which is Bikram-speak for fully engaging your leg muscles while holding the pose. It’s hard to keep your muscle engaged in a pose for 30-60 seconds and I’m always a little gun shy because of my history of knee issues. But the truth is that keeping my chubby quads engaged has nothing to do with my knee. In fact, my lazy quads may very well be the root cause of my knee issues, so I have to really focus on building that strength up.
I was pretty proficient at Bikram after my first year of practice – and well over 100 classes. But starting again from scratch, even with 4 more years of asana practice under my belt, is humbling. The heat of the room is both wonderful and devastating. I had forgotten about the pure ‘survival’ aspect of doing yoga in a hot room. But there’s something very healing and cleansing about sweating so very much.
As a result I’ve also had to re-embrace the path of the shirtless yogi. There’s just no way to survive a Bikram yoga class while wearing a shirt. And in a way it’s liberating, letting my sweaty, fat belly hang out. And in a way it’s horrifying – because it’s a hideous, sweaty, fat belly.
I have to admit that I have a new appreciation for the lack of yoga dogma inherent in the Bikram approach. You go to class. You do your poses. They provide verbal adjustments. You try not to die. You go home. All is well with the world.
People criticize Bikram for dumbing down yoga, but I’m not so sure if that’s true. The emphasis in class is always on 2 things: proper form and quieting your mind. And the fact that the teachers are only trained in and only teach the 26 postures is a benefit – there’s no experimentation on student’s bodies.
I’m sure that craving structure in my yoga practice is just another samskara that I've built, but I’m comfortable with it.
What a fascinating journey this is that we’re on!
“Back in Black”/AC-DC/Back in Black
I’m happy to report that my brief flirtation with vinyasa krama appears to be over. And while I certainly enjoyed reading Srivatsa Ramaswami’s books and playing with his sequences, I forgot one key point:
I really like having a set sequence.
You see, the major downside of vinyasa style yoga is…the overpowering smell of the ham and cheese sandwich that the man sitting next to me on the train is eating. Who in their right mind wolfs down a pre-packaged ham sandwich at 6:15 on a Friday night? Woo hoo! Let’s get this weekend party started! Who’s down for a hammy on the commuter rail?
Ooops. Pratyahara. Pratyahara.
You see, the major downside of vinyasa style yoga is the lack of a set sequence. I love the set sequence. No thinking about which pose comes next. No unconsciously hiding from hated poses. And the best part is that you create a consistent benchmark for observing the daily changes in your body.
Yup, I’ve sure got a thing for yoga styles with set sequences. Like Ashtanga…and Bikram.
There. I’ve said it. I’m now practicing a mixture of Ashtanga and Bikram. And I’ve been going to Bikram classes again. And I like it!
Over the last month I’ve fine tuned my home practice sequence into a synthesis of the Ashtanga standing sequence and the Bikram back strengthening series, with a few bonus postures mixed in here and there. It’s truly amazing. Yes, I say that about every home sequence that I cook up, but you’re definitely going to want to take this baby out for a test drive.
Going back to Bikram classes with my very first yoga teacher has been enlightening. It’s crazy to observe my postural strengths and weaknesses. For example, I totally rock the Bikram trikonasana (which is a variation on parsvokanasa with a different arm position) but I’m still struggling to get back many of the other poses, like I can no longer comfortably get my forehead on my knee in Dandayamana Bibhaktapada Janushirshasana (which is a variation on parvottanasana.)
My biggest struggle is still with ‘locking the knee’ which is Bikram-speak for fully engaging your leg muscles while holding the pose. It’s hard to keep your muscle engaged in a pose for 30-60 seconds and I’m always a little gun shy because of my history of knee issues. But the truth is that keeping my chubby quads engaged has nothing to do with my knee. In fact, my lazy quads may very well be the root cause of my knee issues, so I have to really focus on building that strength up.
I was pretty proficient at Bikram after my first year of practice – and well over 100 classes. But starting again from scratch, even with 4 more years of asana practice under my belt, is humbling. The heat of the room is both wonderful and devastating. I had forgotten about the pure ‘survival’ aspect of doing yoga in a hot room. But there’s something very healing and cleansing about sweating so very much.
As a result I’ve also had to re-embrace the path of the shirtless yogi. There’s just no way to survive a Bikram yoga class while wearing a shirt. And in a way it’s liberating, letting my sweaty, fat belly hang out. And in a way it’s horrifying – because it’s a hideous, sweaty, fat belly.
I have to admit that I have a new appreciation for the lack of yoga dogma inherent in the Bikram approach. You go to class. You do your poses. They provide verbal adjustments. You try not to die. You go home. All is well with the world.
People criticize Bikram for dumbing down yoga, but I’m not so sure if that’s true. The emphasis in class is always on 2 things: proper form and quieting your mind. And the fact that the teachers are only trained in and only teach the 26 postures is a benefit – there’s no experimentation on student’s bodies.
I’m sure that craving structure in my yoga practice is just another samskara that I've built, but I’m comfortable with it.
What a fascinating journey this is that we’re on!
“Back in Black”/AC-DC/Back in Black
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Teenage Lobotomy
For many years I have heard America described – usually by non-Americans – as a young, impetuous country. America was a teenager, especially when compared to the matured former empires of Western Europe.
And like a teenager, we were full of energy, bursting with ideas, headstrong and naïve. Likening us to a teenager wasn’t necessarily an insult. It was merely an observation. The shoe most assuredly fit.
***
When I was a teenager Ronald Reagan was President and I took comfort in the absolutism of conservative ideology. There was order. There was right and wrong. There were good guys and there were bad guys. Nuclear war was the fear. Communists were the enemy. And the funny yet tough old man would take care of us.
In college I split my studies between English, Political Science and History – the only three topics that really interested me (and the categories I dominate in Trivial Pursuit, chumps). And one class in particular forever changed my political views.
The class was “The History of the Viet Nam War” and it was taught by a sweet Japanese professor that smiled frequently and liked to giggle at his own jokes. The class, beyond teaching us the taboo history of America’s long involvement in Viet Nam, also introduced a mind-blowing concept: What if the Communists never had any aggressive interest outside of their immediate sphere of influence and the domino theory was completely fraudulent? What if the Cold war - and by extension the Viet Nam war – was predicated on a gross misunderstanding of Soviet intentions?
Was all of that death and destruction for naught? Throw in the Gulf of Tonkin incident and my black and white world started getting very grey.
I voted for Bush in 1992 but by the Gingrich revolution of 1994 I had switched sides. The blatant attempts to personally destroy Clinton for political gain, coupled with my own ideological realignment, changed everything for me. I had left my teenage perspectives behind. I had finally matured.
***
On Tuesday night, in between the shock and jubilation, the same thought came back to me. America has finally grown up. Our tumultuous teenage years have finally (thankfully!) come to an end.
Racism will still be with us. It would be foolish to think otherwise. 47.5% of the voting population DID NOT vote for Obama, but we’ll never know how many of those people made that decision because of his race. But the existence and impact of racism in the U.S. can now be addressed. It appears that our country is finally ready to acknowledge and admit to the hideous and obvious fact that we have systematically oppressed a group of our fellow citizens, friends and neighbors, for well over 200 years.
***
I voted for Barack Obama because I felt that he was the best person for the job.
I voted for Barack Obama because on the issues I agree with him more often than I agree with John McCain (although I still agree with Dennis Kucinich most of all).
I voted for Barack Obama because of the way he conducted himself under intense scrutiny during these last two years, exuding calm and thoughtfulness.
I voted for Barack Obama because of the way he ran his campaign over the last 2 years, showing himself to be an excellent leader.
I voted for Barack Obama because I knew that he represented a new image for America that would help repair our relations with people around the globe.
Those were the rational reasons that I voted for Barack Obama.
But on an emotional level, I was thrilled to finally be able to vote for a black man that I believe can be a great leader for our nation. Look, I wouldn’t vote for just any black man (i.e. Alan Keyes) to be President merely in the spirit of reparations, but all things being equal I’d rather vote for a black guy – or a woman – over another rich, old white guy.
Us white guys have benefited, without asking, from the institutional racism that pervades our system. Barring a few stray anti-Semitic comments over the years, I’ve never been discriminated against and I know that being an upper-middle class white man has given me an advantage throughout my life.
I don’t believe that anybody really wants an unfair advantage in life – I just believe that people want to have a fair shot. Most people want to be judged – and want to fail or succeed - on their own merits.
And the election of Barack Obama – on his own merits - proves the existence of the elusive American dream that so many of us started to believe was just a myth, just another talking point.
***
It was wonderful to see the images of victory – the tears of joy coming from people that have been oppressed for so very long, knowing that a majority of their fellow citizens wanted a black man to be their president.
This was not civil rights forced by the legislature or the courts upon an unwilling populace. This was a conscious, deliberate act by a nation to bestow its most important job on an inspirational man, regardless of his race.
And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I too, am proud of my country and my fellow citizens.
I don’t believe that were entering some utopian post-racial period in our history. Racism will still exist. But being black will no longer disqualify people from achieving greatness in the U.S. And that’s a pretty good start.
***
I do believe - still in my post-election ‘rainbows and unicorns’ mindset - that we might, however, be entering a post-Rovian political period. At least I hope so.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel like gloating. I don’t feel like taunting Republicans (except for the Neiman Marcus-lootin' Wasilla hillbilly, of course). I feel like we have a chance to finally bring this country together after a disastrous couple of decades.
McCain’s gracious concession speech was a good start towards partisan reconciliation. Obama’s speech was amazing and inclusive. Let’s make this work, people!
If the 20% of right-wing nutjobs want to try to destroy President Obama and obstruct progress for the sake of politics, then so be it – I won’t listen to them. And if the 20% of left-wing ideologues want to hold President Obama to a hardline progressive revolution, then so be it – I won’t play along. That's right, I – a confessed democratic socialist – want to join with the remaining 60% of the country to form a new coalition of left-center-right pragmatists that are focused on fixing this country and this world. The Unity Party!
Our country squandered the post-9/11 moment to unify the globe against fundamentalists. The neoconservatives hijacked a national tragedy to push their political agenda, and I sincerely hope that they end up at The Hague one day, on trial for their war crimes in Iraq.
Let’s not squander this post-11/4 moment by having the democrats attempt to do the same thing. Let’s not worry about establishing a permanent democratic majority.
I think it’s time to shut off Colbert – his work is done. It’s time to turn off Olbermann – his moment has passed. Thank you both for helping us to survive the darkest days with humor and legitimate outrage.
But it’s time for us to seize this rare moment of unity and optimism and focus on saving the country.
Including, of course, taking up the civil rights fight for our gay brothers and sisters, who now seem to be bearing the brunt of the prejudicial demon that we just can't seem to fully exorcize from our nation’s collective soul. Don’t lose faith - your 11/4 is coming, too.
***
My hope is that we’ll look back at the period from 1992 – 2008 as the end of a difficult period of American history – the last throes of our teenage years – where our narcissism and selfishness temporarily clouded our better judgment.
And maybe one day we’ll look back at that awkward teenager with a mixture of embarrassment and fondness, like we all look back at our teenage selves, knowing that it was both the good and the bad that helped us to become our adult selves.
Know Hope!
***
And now I’m really done writing about politics. Back to your regularly programmed yoga talk soon!
“Teenage Lobotomy”/The Ramones/Rocket to Russia
And like a teenager, we were full of energy, bursting with ideas, headstrong and naïve. Likening us to a teenager wasn’t necessarily an insult. It was merely an observation. The shoe most assuredly fit.
***
When I was a teenager Ronald Reagan was President and I took comfort in the absolutism of conservative ideology. There was order. There was right and wrong. There were good guys and there were bad guys. Nuclear war was the fear. Communists were the enemy. And the funny yet tough old man would take care of us.
In college I split my studies between English, Political Science and History – the only three topics that really interested me (and the categories I dominate in Trivial Pursuit, chumps). And one class in particular forever changed my political views.
The class was “The History of the Viet Nam War” and it was taught by a sweet Japanese professor that smiled frequently and liked to giggle at his own jokes. The class, beyond teaching us the taboo history of America’s long involvement in Viet Nam, also introduced a mind-blowing concept: What if the Communists never had any aggressive interest outside of their immediate sphere of influence and the domino theory was completely fraudulent? What if the Cold war - and by extension the Viet Nam war – was predicated on a gross misunderstanding of Soviet intentions?
Was all of that death and destruction for naught? Throw in the Gulf of Tonkin incident and my black and white world started getting very grey.
I voted for Bush in 1992 but by the Gingrich revolution of 1994 I had switched sides. The blatant attempts to personally destroy Clinton for political gain, coupled with my own ideological realignment, changed everything for me. I had left my teenage perspectives behind. I had finally matured.
***
On Tuesday night, in between the shock and jubilation, the same thought came back to me. America has finally grown up. Our tumultuous teenage years have finally (thankfully!) come to an end.
Racism will still be with us. It would be foolish to think otherwise. 47.5% of the voting population DID NOT vote for Obama, but we’ll never know how many of those people made that decision because of his race. But the existence and impact of racism in the U.S. can now be addressed. It appears that our country is finally ready to acknowledge and admit to the hideous and obvious fact that we have systematically oppressed a group of our fellow citizens, friends and neighbors, for well over 200 years.
***
I voted for Barack Obama because I felt that he was the best person for the job.
I voted for Barack Obama because on the issues I agree with him more often than I agree with John McCain (although I still agree with Dennis Kucinich most of all).
I voted for Barack Obama because of the way he conducted himself under intense scrutiny during these last two years, exuding calm and thoughtfulness.
I voted for Barack Obama because of the way he ran his campaign over the last 2 years, showing himself to be an excellent leader.
I voted for Barack Obama because I knew that he represented a new image for America that would help repair our relations with people around the globe.
Those were the rational reasons that I voted for Barack Obama.
But on an emotional level, I was thrilled to finally be able to vote for a black man that I believe can be a great leader for our nation. Look, I wouldn’t vote for just any black man (i.e. Alan Keyes) to be President merely in the spirit of reparations, but all things being equal I’d rather vote for a black guy – or a woman – over another rich, old white guy.
Us white guys have benefited, without asking, from the institutional racism that pervades our system. Barring a few stray anti-Semitic comments over the years, I’ve never been discriminated against and I know that being an upper-middle class white man has given me an advantage throughout my life.
I don’t believe that anybody really wants an unfair advantage in life – I just believe that people want to have a fair shot. Most people want to be judged – and want to fail or succeed - on their own merits.
And the election of Barack Obama – on his own merits - proves the existence of the elusive American dream that so many of us started to believe was just a myth, just another talking point.
***
It was wonderful to see the images of victory – the tears of joy coming from people that have been oppressed for so very long, knowing that a majority of their fellow citizens wanted a black man to be their president.
This was not civil rights forced by the legislature or the courts upon an unwilling populace. This was a conscious, deliberate act by a nation to bestow its most important job on an inspirational man, regardless of his race.
And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I too, am proud of my country and my fellow citizens.
I don’t believe that were entering some utopian post-racial period in our history. Racism will still exist. But being black will no longer disqualify people from achieving greatness in the U.S. And that’s a pretty good start.
***
I do believe - still in my post-election ‘rainbows and unicorns’ mindset - that we might, however, be entering a post-Rovian political period. At least I hope so.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel like gloating. I don’t feel like taunting Republicans (except for the Neiman Marcus-lootin' Wasilla hillbilly, of course). I feel like we have a chance to finally bring this country together after a disastrous couple of decades.
McCain’s gracious concession speech was a good start towards partisan reconciliation. Obama’s speech was amazing and inclusive. Let’s make this work, people!
If the 20% of right-wing nutjobs want to try to destroy President Obama and obstruct progress for the sake of politics, then so be it – I won’t listen to them. And if the 20% of left-wing ideologues want to hold President Obama to a hardline progressive revolution, then so be it – I won’t play along. That's right, I – a confessed democratic socialist – want to join with the remaining 60% of the country to form a new coalition of left-center-right pragmatists that are focused on fixing this country and this world. The Unity Party!
Our country squandered the post-9/11 moment to unify the globe against fundamentalists. The neoconservatives hijacked a national tragedy to push their political agenda, and I sincerely hope that they end up at The Hague one day, on trial for their war crimes in Iraq.
Let’s not squander this post-11/4 moment by having the democrats attempt to do the same thing. Let’s not worry about establishing a permanent democratic majority.
I think it’s time to shut off Colbert – his work is done. It’s time to turn off Olbermann – his moment has passed. Thank you both for helping us to survive the darkest days with humor and legitimate outrage.
But it’s time for us to seize this rare moment of unity and optimism and focus on saving the country.
Including, of course, taking up the civil rights fight for our gay brothers and sisters, who now seem to be bearing the brunt of the prejudicial demon that we just can't seem to fully exorcize from our nation’s collective soul. Don’t lose faith - your 11/4 is coming, too.
***
My hope is that we’ll look back at the period from 1992 – 2008 as the end of a difficult period of American history – the last throes of our teenage years – where our narcissism and selfishness temporarily clouded our better judgment.
And maybe one day we’ll look back at that awkward teenager with a mixture of embarrassment and fondness, like we all look back at our teenage selves, knowing that it was both the good and the bad that helped us to become our adult selves.
Know Hope!
***
And now I’m really done writing about politics. Back to your regularly programmed yoga talk soon!
“Teenage Lobotomy”/The Ramones/Rocket to Russia
Monday, November 03, 2008
The Eleven
Random thoughts, reflections and predictions on the day before the 2008 election.
Mea Culpa
I know that you come here for yogic observations and/or observational humor and not lefty politics. Believe you me, I really try not to write about politics but I just can’t help myself. I’m a hard core junkie and I can’t focus on anything else right now. So, I’m sorry for boring you with all of the politics and I hope that this last post will help to get it all out of my system. I’ve got lots of yoga posts ready to go, I promise.
My favorite quote this election season
“Rosa sat so Martin could walk. Martin walked so Barack could run. Barack ran so that our children could fly.”
It’s long past time for us to accept and absolve our country’s original sin. What our forefathers did to the Native Americans, Blacks and Women was unconscionable. As a society we need to openly discuss and admit that oppression, slavery and murder are wrong and that we have learned from the past. Obama isn’t just a black man running for President – he’s the best candidate who also happens to be black. But he’s also a powerful symbol for a country that’s finally coming of age.
It’s Mexico!
Four years ago I threatened to move to Canada (Vancouver, specifically) if Bush won. Bush won and I never moved (I blame my wife – she wouldn’t let me). This time I’ve decided on moving to Mexico if McCain wins – better weather, better food, daily siestas and plenty of fiestas. Plus, I already have a head start on the language, thanks to seventh grade! I figure that after the first year or so I won’t get sick from the water, either.
Chocolazuma's Revenge
Speaking of getting sick (and in the spirit of full disclosure,) I’m going to peg the total candy intake this holiday weekend (Friday – Sunday) at about 40 candy bars or so. I know, it’s disgusting, but most of those were mini sized, if that helps your opinion of me any. I’m now 8 pounds above my maximum weight, so let’s just say that you gain approximately 1 pound for every 5 pieces of candy eaten. On second thought, that seems like a fair trade. My top 5 of 2008: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, Butterfingers, Twix, Take 5 and Kit Kat.
Top 5 reasons to 'Vote Obama'
1) Rule of Law: We need a constitutional scholar to fix what Bush, Cheney & Rove have done to the constitution (no more illegal signing statements);
2) Supreme Court Balance: JP Stevens & RB Ginsberg want to retire (preserve Roe v. Wade);
3) End the War: We need to leave Iraq – and dismantle the empire – today.
4) Trickle Up: The Reagan economic ideology has failed. We need a new approach that will lift up the working class and restore fiscal solvency.
5) Leadership: I want a President that’s smarter than me (and your average plumber).
Wither California?
Are the wheels coming off in California? Here in Massachusetts, we’re proud of our gay marriages and universal healthcare. Now we’re moving onto to the next frontier: decriminalizing marijuana and banning dog racing. What happened to you, California? You used to be cool, man. Now you elect ‘roided up action heroes to the Governor’s mansion and let Utah Mormons try to take away the rights of your citizens. Never forget – Massachusetts is still the bluest state of them all.
Man Smart, Obama Smarter
I used to think that the Democrats needed to get dirty to win. I thought that the politics of personal destruction were here to stay. And then I watched Barack Obama run the smartest, most strategic campaign in the history of American politics. He attacked hard – but almost always on policy and not cheap personal issues (I would’ve played the ‘senile’ card early and often.) He dreamed big – and proved that Howard Dean’s 50-state strategy was the right one for party-building. He stayed on strategy – while McCain lurched from desperate tactic to desperate tactic. If Obama wins, he also defeats the poisonous campaign style that Lee Atwater introduced and Karl Rove perfected.
Landslide Theory
As a conspiracy theorist (and a Red Sox fan) I’m inclined to say that the Republicans will find a way to steal the election tomorrow and the Democrats will find a way to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. You know, like 2000 (Florida) and 2004 (Ohio).
But I honestly don’t believe it this time. I’m actually optimistic! Why, you ask? Because you can’t steal a landslide. In a close contest you can steal a state, but you can’t steal all of them. That’s why I’m calling for Obama to win and to win big.
And if not, there’s always Mexico.
Breakout Stars this Cycle
Analyst: Chuck Todd (NBC) for his grasp of the numbers.
Anchor: Rachel Maddow (MSNBC) for her ability to make complex things simple.
Web: Fivethirtyeight.com (Nate Silver) for taking polling analysis to the next level.
And I’m still sad that Tim Russert isn’t here to see this election through. RIP, Russ.
Predictions
Okay let’s get it all on paper for the official record.
1) President: Obama wins with 370 EV and 55% of the popular vote;
2) Battleground: Obama wins PA & FL; McCain gets OH;
3) Senate: Democrats finish with 58 senate seats (not counting Lieberman or Sanders);
4) Wednesday will be declared a moon day (I have to leave for a business trip at 6 am on Wednesday morning and it’s going to be a long night).
“The Eleven”/The Grateful Dead
Mea Culpa
I know that you come here for yogic observations and/or observational humor and not lefty politics. Believe you me, I really try not to write about politics but I just can’t help myself. I’m a hard core junkie and I can’t focus on anything else right now. So, I’m sorry for boring you with all of the politics and I hope that this last post will help to get it all out of my system. I’ve got lots of yoga posts ready to go, I promise.
My favorite quote this election season
“Rosa sat so Martin could walk. Martin walked so Barack could run. Barack ran so that our children could fly.”
It’s long past time for us to accept and absolve our country’s original sin. What our forefathers did to the Native Americans, Blacks and Women was unconscionable. As a society we need to openly discuss and admit that oppression, slavery and murder are wrong and that we have learned from the past. Obama isn’t just a black man running for President – he’s the best candidate who also happens to be black. But he’s also a powerful symbol for a country that’s finally coming of age.
It’s Mexico!
Four years ago I threatened to move to Canada (Vancouver, specifically) if Bush won. Bush won and I never moved (I blame my wife – she wouldn’t let me). This time I’ve decided on moving to Mexico if McCain wins – better weather, better food, daily siestas and plenty of fiestas. Plus, I already have a head start on the language, thanks to seventh grade! I figure that after the first year or so I won’t get sick from the water, either.
Chocolazuma's Revenge
Speaking of getting sick (and in the spirit of full disclosure,) I’m going to peg the total candy intake this holiday weekend (Friday – Sunday) at about 40 candy bars or so. I know, it’s disgusting, but most of those were mini sized, if that helps your opinion of me any. I’m now 8 pounds above my maximum weight, so let’s just say that you gain approximately 1 pound for every 5 pieces of candy eaten. On second thought, that seems like a fair trade. My top 5 of 2008: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, Butterfingers, Twix, Take 5 and Kit Kat.
Top 5 reasons to 'Vote Obama'
1) Rule of Law: We need a constitutional scholar to fix what Bush, Cheney & Rove have done to the constitution (no more illegal signing statements);
2) Supreme Court Balance: JP Stevens & RB Ginsberg want to retire (preserve Roe v. Wade);
3) End the War: We need to leave Iraq – and dismantle the empire – today.
4) Trickle Up: The Reagan economic ideology has failed. We need a new approach that will lift up the working class and restore fiscal solvency.
5) Leadership: I want a President that’s smarter than me (and your average plumber).
Wither California?
Are the wheels coming off in California? Here in Massachusetts, we’re proud of our gay marriages and universal healthcare. Now we’re moving onto to the next frontier: decriminalizing marijuana and banning dog racing. What happened to you, California? You used to be cool, man. Now you elect ‘roided up action heroes to the Governor’s mansion and let Utah Mormons try to take away the rights of your citizens. Never forget – Massachusetts is still the bluest state of them all.
Man Smart, Obama Smarter
I used to think that the Democrats needed to get dirty to win. I thought that the politics of personal destruction were here to stay. And then I watched Barack Obama run the smartest, most strategic campaign in the history of American politics. He attacked hard – but almost always on policy and not cheap personal issues (I would’ve played the ‘senile’ card early and often.) He dreamed big – and proved that Howard Dean’s 50-state strategy was the right one for party-building. He stayed on strategy – while McCain lurched from desperate tactic to desperate tactic. If Obama wins, he also defeats the poisonous campaign style that Lee Atwater introduced and Karl Rove perfected.
Landslide Theory
As a conspiracy theorist (and a Red Sox fan) I’m inclined to say that the Republicans will find a way to steal the election tomorrow and the Democrats will find a way to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. You know, like 2000 (Florida) and 2004 (Ohio).
But I honestly don’t believe it this time. I’m actually optimistic! Why, you ask? Because you can’t steal a landslide. In a close contest you can steal a state, but you can’t steal all of them. That’s why I’m calling for Obama to win and to win big.
And if not, there’s always Mexico.
Breakout Stars this Cycle
Analyst: Chuck Todd (NBC) for his grasp of the numbers.
Anchor: Rachel Maddow (MSNBC) for her ability to make complex things simple.
Web: Fivethirtyeight.com (Nate Silver) for taking polling analysis to the next level.
And I’m still sad that Tim Russert isn’t here to see this election through. RIP, Russ.
Predictions
Okay let’s get it all on paper for the official record.
1) President: Obama wins with 370 EV and 55% of the popular vote;
2) Battleground: Obama wins PA & FL; McCain gets OH;
3) Senate: Democrats finish with 58 senate seats (not counting Lieberman or Sanders);
4) Wednesday will be declared a moon day (I have to leave for a business trip at 6 am on Wednesday morning and it’s going to be a long night).
“The Eleven”/The Grateful Dead
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