The weirdest thing this past weekend wasn't having to dodge all the "Woodstock" era music on the radio-heck, I own a lot of it as long-players (before compact discs, before mp3's. Look 'em up) and interviewed at various times in the ensuing decades more than half the folks who survived all of that. If I survived, why shouldn't they? (Turns out I remembered more about it than they did and I wasn't even there-what does that tell us, grasshopper?)
Hand on your heart, if you listened to the original soundtrack of Woodstock, either the two CD set or the original three record set four times in the last forty years, why? I own it, and its companion set, the one with the nude little kids on the cover, with stuff that somebody didn't think was good enough to be on the first set (and was for the most part, right) and every once in awhile I pull it out of the rack, marvel that I still have it, and put it back. And here we all are, well, some of us at least, forty years later, still being stardust, being golden, though more of us are leaning towards golden oldie than just golden I suspect.
What really convinced me that you can't go home again was a reminder that the Summer of Love was holding a memory liquidation sale. Who was released from prison last week, just in time to be a footnote to all of the hullabaloo, Squeaky Fromme. The Squeakster. Talk about a blast from the past! And just me, in the news stories broadcast over the last couple of days about her release or that ran in the print wire services and on-line, all I can remember seeing is the footage of her walking down the courthouse hallway with the other women loonies from the days of the Manson trial and/or the photo of her getting shoved into the back seat of the police cruiser after trying to take a shot at then-President Gerry Ford with a revolver that had no bullets (and how symbolic was that?).
In other words, I saw LOTS of Squeaky from then and not so much, actually not any, from now. Can't really blame anyone-I have snapshots of me from high school and they scare the stuffings out of me now. Maybe you too? Sort of like having Dorian Grey as your DMV photo, if you know what I mean. I'm framing a bad movie in my head, tooling across Yasgur's farm in a sunflower yellow and white VW micro bus- Canned Heat blasting out of the eight-track player and Squeaky Fromme bobblehead dolls lined up on the dashboard as we gulley-whomp through every rut in the road. "They were turning into butterflies above our nation", but only if you inhaled and held it for forty years, Ichabod.
-bill kenny
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
We All Live in a Yellow Submarine (Moored in Chelsea Harbor)
This is Tax Free sales week in Connecticut which, for those with school-age children to outfit, can be some good news as for this week only (the ads always use bold and italics) there's no sales tax on clothing and footwear purchases of between fifty and three hundred dollars. Okay, as a colleague pointed out, that's not the same as getting everything for free, but a savings is still a savings and my thanks to State Representative Chris Coutu and his email for reminding me (and everyone else) about the savings.
The municipal meeting calendar in Norwich starts to pick up, not necessarily in honor of tax free clothing and shoes, but if that reason works for you who am I to argue? And I think you should wear them, if you bought some, to the meetings of your choice, just to show off. First up, this afternoon at five thirty in their third consecutive new meeting room in three weeks (and this one is a keeper), Room 319 in City Hall, it's the (take a deep breath and let it out slowly) Norwich Site Development Committee for the Former State Hospital. The municipal website doesn't have the meeting minutes from last Monday (I don't know why, but if I wanted to fit in around here, I'd imagine something awful and venal and share it. Then again, I'm not from here) but you can probably get them by dropping an enote to bobmills@ncdevcorp.org or, I suppose if I were half as sincere as I pretend to be, to me, and you'd get a copy.
Don't pay too much attention to what was in last week week's papers about what went on because those accounts, as far as I'm concerned, were very lazy and focused on low-hanging fruit instead of the large and long-term issues. There's a lot of moving parts on a purchase of this magnitude and a very large number of concerns that I, as an example, would have NEVER thought about if there weren't a room full of folks to examine every aspect. I'm looking forward to the report by the State Archaeologist (I confess; I didn't know Connecticut even had one) and I hope he's wearing those new rope sandals and docker jeans he got on sale.
The City Council meets at seven in Room 318. Among other topics on their agenda is a new business resolution to place a five million dollar bond for roads and bridge repairs on the November ballot. I'm a little curious and concerned about the last item on the agenda, an executive session on "land acquisition." I'm hearing rumblings that 'maybe' the City should purchase the now former YMCA building in downtown, put the recreation department in it and reopen the pool (and I guess fence off all the parts of the building that are broken, assuming there's enough fence in the whole world for that).
With all the elan, savvy and good fortune that government (at all levels) operates private sector businesses across our great nation, I would imagine in a matter of minutes milk and honey will flow through the streets of Down City as we roll in the clover of our triumph of enterprise. Or not. (SIDEBAR: Would someone please take a better and more proportional picture of Mr. Nystrom for the City Council web page so that he's more to the scale of everyone else's photo!)
Tuesday afternoon, at 5:30, in Room 6109 of The Latham Science Center on the school's campus is a regular meeting of the Norwich Free Academy Board of Trustees. Tuesday evening at six, in Room 210 of City Hall is a regular meeting of the Personnel and Pension Board all of whose members' appointments seem to have expired, but that's one of the topics on the meeting agenda, so that will get resolved in some form, I suspect. And the Commission on the City Plan meets at seven Tuesday evening in the basement conference room of 23 Union Street and for those neighbors of 337 Mohegan Park Road, you may wish to get there early for a seat as this item has been of some interest for some time (and may be coming to a conclusion tonight).
Also at seven, Tuesday night though I'm unclear on where it's meeting, is the Downtown Revitalization Zone (the hyperlink is my attempt at humor; it's neither the current meeting minutes nor the meeting agenda) and, correct me if I'm wrong, but one of the members resides (I'm told) in Paris, France, which makes NOT missing three consecutive meetings a bit problematic in terms of the city charter, I suspect.
There's some early Wednesday morning meetings worth noting. Looking at them chronologically (you decide which is the most important of the three and act accordingly) is the regular meeting of the Southeastern Connecticut Council of Governments in their building on Connecticut Avenue up in the Norwich Business Park. Up next is the Rehabilitation Review Committee meeting at 8:45 in the second floor conference room at 23 Union Street though there's no agenda and the last meeting minutes are from June (and some attention to the members' terms might be a good idea as well). Then, beginning at nine at the Dime Bank Community Room (inside the bank at 290 Salem Turnpike) is a regular meeting of the School Readiness Council (Children First of Norwich), whom I'd assume, as the school year starts, are engaged in many worthwhile activities that parents and residents across the community would appreciate knowing more about, except.....absolutely no chance of that as the website remains as outdated as it has been for months. It's a comfort to know their intentions are good (without so much as a Prelude? Times are tough!).
Thursday, perhaps at five, is a regular meeting of the Norwich Historic District who, I guess, ran out of interest in posting either meeting agendas or minutes of past meetings back in May. There's been a lot of talk about tourism, especially as economic times have been difficult for months, and the attractions of those buildings we have here in Norwich, so it's a cinch that interest in historical preservation and tourism is only going to grow. So, too, I hope, will be the reporting, as required by public law, on the efforts of the Norwich Historic District volunteers.
Meanwhile, really and truly at five, but there's no agenda or minutes of previous meetings posted, it's a regular meeting of the Ice Rink Authority, all of whose members' appointments could do with a refresh and update.
And closing out the week's activities at six, at Olympic Pizza (on West Main Street), is a Tax and Economic Development Growth Forum sponsored by Bob Zarnetske, who is running for Mayor as the candidate of the Norwich for Change Party. There's a promise of great pizza and some good discussion on getting a handle on the property tax burden in The Rose City, so think of it as dinner and a movie without the movie.
"And our friends are all on board.
Many more of them live next door.
And the band begins to play."
Fair winds and following seas, as if we had a choice.
-bill kenny
The municipal meeting calendar in Norwich starts to pick up, not necessarily in honor of tax free clothing and shoes, but if that reason works for you who am I to argue? And I think you should wear them, if you bought some, to the meetings of your choice, just to show off. First up, this afternoon at five thirty in their third consecutive new meeting room in three weeks (and this one is a keeper), Room 319 in City Hall, it's the (take a deep breath and let it out slowly) Norwich Site Development Committee for the Former State Hospital. The municipal website doesn't have the meeting minutes from last Monday (I don't know why, but if I wanted to fit in around here, I'd imagine something awful and venal and share it. Then again, I'm not from here) but you can probably get them by dropping an enote to bobmills@ncdevcorp.org or, I suppose if I were half as sincere as I pretend to be, to me, and you'd get a copy.
Don't pay too much attention to what was in last week week's papers about what went on because those accounts, as far as I'm concerned, were very lazy and focused on low-hanging fruit instead of the large and long-term issues. There's a lot of moving parts on a purchase of this magnitude and a very large number of concerns that I, as an example, would have NEVER thought about if there weren't a room full of folks to examine every aspect. I'm looking forward to the report by the State Archaeologist (I confess; I didn't know Connecticut even had one) and I hope he's wearing those new rope sandals and docker jeans he got on sale.
The City Council meets at seven in Room 318. Among other topics on their agenda is a new business resolution to place a five million dollar bond for roads and bridge repairs on the November ballot. I'm a little curious and concerned about the last item on the agenda, an executive session on "land acquisition." I'm hearing rumblings that 'maybe' the City should purchase the now former YMCA building in downtown, put the recreation department in it and reopen the pool (and I guess fence off all the parts of the building that are broken, assuming there's enough fence in the whole world for that).
With all the elan, savvy and good fortune that government (at all levels) operates private sector businesses across our great nation, I would imagine in a matter of minutes milk and honey will flow through the streets of Down City as we roll in the clover of our triumph of enterprise. Or not. (SIDEBAR: Would someone please take a better and more proportional picture of Mr. Nystrom for the City Council web page so that he's more to the scale of everyone else's photo!)
Tuesday afternoon, at 5:30, in Room 6109 of The Latham Science Center on the school's campus is a regular meeting of the Norwich Free Academy Board of Trustees. Tuesday evening at six, in Room 210 of City Hall is a regular meeting of the Personnel and Pension Board all of whose members' appointments seem to have expired, but that's one of the topics on the meeting agenda, so that will get resolved in some form, I suspect. And the Commission on the City Plan meets at seven Tuesday evening in the basement conference room of 23 Union Street and for those neighbors of 337 Mohegan Park Road, you may wish to get there early for a seat as this item has been of some interest for some time (and may be coming to a conclusion tonight).
Also at seven, Tuesday night though I'm unclear on where it's meeting, is the Downtown Revitalization Zone (the hyperlink is my attempt at humor; it's neither the current meeting minutes nor the meeting agenda) and, correct me if I'm wrong, but one of the members resides (I'm told) in Paris, France, which makes NOT missing three consecutive meetings a bit problematic in terms of the city charter, I suspect.
There's some early Wednesday morning meetings worth noting. Looking at them chronologically (you decide which is the most important of the three and act accordingly) is the regular meeting of the Southeastern Connecticut Council of Governments in their building on Connecticut Avenue up in the Norwich Business Park. Up next is the Rehabilitation Review Committee meeting at 8:45 in the second floor conference room at 23 Union Street though there's no agenda and the last meeting minutes are from June (and some attention to the members' terms might be a good idea as well). Then, beginning at nine at the Dime Bank Community Room (inside the bank at 290 Salem Turnpike) is a regular meeting of the School Readiness Council (Children First of Norwich), whom I'd assume, as the school year starts, are engaged in many worthwhile activities that parents and residents across the community would appreciate knowing more about, except.....absolutely no chance of that as the website remains as outdated as it has been for months. It's a comfort to know their intentions are good (without so much as a Prelude? Times are tough!).
Thursday, perhaps at five, is a regular meeting of the Norwich Historic District who, I guess, ran out of interest in posting either meeting agendas or minutes of past meetings back in May. There's been a lot of talk about tourism, especially as economic times have been difficult for months, and the attractions of those buildings we have here in Norwich, so it's a cinch that interest in historical preservation and tourism is only going to grow. So, too, I hope, will be the reporting, as required by public law, on the efforts of the Norwich Historic District volunteers.
Meanwhile, really and truly at five, but there's no agenda or minutes of previous meetings posted, it's a regular meeting of the Ice Rink Authority, all of whose members' appointments could do with a refresh and update.
And closing out the week's activities at six, at Olympic Pizza (on West Main Street), is a Tax and Economic Development Growth Forum sponsored by Bob Zarnetske, who is running for Mayor as the candidate of the Norwich for Change Party. There's a promise of great pizza and some good discussion on getting a handle on the property tax burden in The Rose City, so think of it as dinner and a movie without the movie.
"And our friends are all on board.
Many more of them live next door.
And the band begins to play."
Fair winds and following seas, as if we had a choice.
-bill kenny
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Chuckie vs. the Quick Lube Guys
Yesterday morning was my LARGE FUN day-my 'me' time, sort of. I had an appointment for the local lab to draw blood for an upcoming endocrinologist's visit (I was surprised, and not pleasantly, when the lab tech shared that, in addition to blood, she wanted me to fill a cup with urine. "From here?" I asked some eight feet away. So much for that career in stand-up). I have diabetes, auto immune pancreatitis, and at least two other auto immune diseases that a posse of doctors watch and monitor, so blood tests (for one or more of them) are pretty much a monthly routine.
Because it was still early and more importantly because it needed to be done, I headed to the place in Montville, off Route 32, where I have the oil changed every three thousand miles. Yeah, I know, I've heard all about the new math and read all the car-care columns on the new and longer oil-change increments and that's all well and good but many years ago my friend and neighbor, Eric, who knows more about cars sound asleep than you and I will ever know wide awake told me to get the oil changed every three thousand miles and that's what I do. And it works like a charm.
There were four or five people getting routine maintenance accomplished and I joined them while the oil was changed and the fuel injectors were cleaned. I was reading one of the local newspapers and, probably like yours, on the front page was a color photo of two men holding signs on opposite sides of the health care argument, snapped while demonstrating in front of our Congressman's office on Friday (when you can't hear what people are saying they look goofy when all you have is their picture. And these guys made me smile even if the topic is very serious and our behavior on both sides of this issue is awful).
The newspaper on an inside page had Charles Krauthammer's thoughts on the health care reform proposed by President Obama and while I enjoy his writing, I don't often agree with his arguments and yesterday was no exception. Meanwhile, one of the fellows who changes the oil came into the waiting area with the filthiest air filter I have ever seen, from a Chrysler Pacifica (he said) and spoke with the guy who drives the vehicle (who looked to be about my age, but with pointed (and muddy) cowboy boots and a trucker type ball cap) to confer.
The vehicle, said the young guy who had just been under the hood, needed a new air filter (obvious to ALL of us) and, opening his left hand, he showed the owner the oil drain plug that had been in his vehicle and that was pretty much worn down. The employee suggested the driver buy a new plug for four dollars since the old one was cross-threaded. A new air filter was nineteen dollars and some change, plus tax, and there was a mention of replacing the windshield wipers as they were fraying, and the blades were closer to twenty bucks a pop. I could see from where I was sitting, the owner had zero desire to do any of this and sure enough, he looked at the employee and told him "that's okay, I'll take care of it all later."
All of us, to include the kid holding the air filter containing the sands of the Sahara, knew this guy was full of carp (I hate typing 'crap', it's so coarse; oh, waitaminit!) and I returned to Krauthammer's article because it was really about the same thing, but maybe the fish was different. I lived in my wife's country, Germany, for fifteen years where there is universal health care and from what I've read and experienced, her countrymen are in considerably better shape physically than mine because the system works. There are probably a lot of reasons for that, but being able to afford and finance preventive care is, I suspect, no small part of the equation. And more significantly, to me, might be projecting what NOT having preventive care costs us as a society.
When we spend as much time as we have arguing about how socialists and liberals have 'stolen our country', how we'll have 'death panels' (I've worked very hard to NOT say mean things about a former Governor and failed vice-presidential candidate but she really needs to shut up as she's not adding anything) and build camps for the terminally ill, we need to realize we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, and concede that we're actually not discussing health care.
I took a good look at the Chrysler Pacifica, still on the rack as I drove away, realizing there's an excellent chance the next time I see it, it'll be by the side of the road with the hood up and the emergency flashers on. I'm pretty sure the repair bill total on that day will be considerably higher than what it might have been yesterday, but the owner did get to exercise his free will as a God-loving and socialist-fearing American, and that, I'm sure, will be very comforting when the wheels stop turning, assuming, of course, they don't just fall off.
-bill kenny
Because it was still early and more importantly because it needed to be done, I headed to the place in Montville, off Route 32, where I have the oil changed every three thousand miles. Yeah, I know, I've heard all about the new math and read all the car-care columns on the new and longer oil-change increments and that's all well and good but many years ago my friend and neighbor, Eric, who knows more about cars sound asleep than you and I will ever know wide awake told me to get the oil changed every three thousand miles and that's what I do. And it works like a charm.
There were four or five people getting routine maintenance accomplished and I joined them while the oil was changed and the fuel injectors were cleaned. I was reading one of the local newspapers and, probably like yours, on the front page was a color photo of two men holding signs on opposite sides of the health care argument, snapped while demonstrating in front of our Congressman's office on Friday (when you can't hear what people are saying they look goofy when all you have is their picture. And these guys made me smile even if the topic is very serious and our behavior on both sides of this issue is awful).
The newspaper on an inside page had Charles Krauthammer's thoughts on the health care reform proposed by President Obama and while I enjoy his writing, I don't often agree with his arguments and yesterday was no exception. Meanwhile, one of the fellows who changes the oil came into the waiting area with the filthiest air filter I have ever seen, from a Chrysler Pacifica (he said) and spoke with the guy who drives the vehicle (who looked to be about my age, but with pointed (and muddy) cowboy boots and a trucker type ball cap) to confer.
The vehicle, said the young guy who had just been under the hood, needed a new air filter (obvious to ALL of us) and, opening his left hand, he showed the owner the oil drain plug that had been in his vehicle and that was pretty much worn down. The employee suggested the driver buy a new plug for four dollars since the old one was cross-threaded. A new air filter was nineteen dollars and some change, plus tax, and there was a mention of replacing the windshield wipers as they were fraying, and the blades were closer to twenty bucks a pop. I could see from where I was sitting, the owner had zero desire to do any of this and sure enough, he looked at the employee and told him "that's okay, I'll take care of it all later."
All of us, to include the kid holding the air filter containing the sands of the Sahara, knew this guy was full of carp (I hate typing 'crap', it's so coarse; oh, waitaminit!) and I returned to Krauthammer's article because it was really about the same thing, but maybe the fish was different. I lived in my wife's country, Germany, for fifteen years where there is universal health care and from what I've read and experienced, her countrymen are in considerably better shape physically than mine because the system works. There are probably a lot of reasons for that, but being able to afford and finance preventive care is, I suspect, no small part of the equation. And more significantly, to me, might be projecting what NOT having preventive care costs us as a society.
When we spend as much time as we have arguing about how socialists and liberals have 'stolen our country', how we'll have 'death panels' (I've worked very hard to NOT say mean things about a former Governor and failed vice-presidential candidate but she really needs to shut up as she's not adding anything) and build camps for the terminally ill, we need to realize we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, and concede that we're actually not discussing health care.
I took a good look at the Chrysler Pacifica, still on the rack as I drove away, realizing there's an excellent chance the next time I see it, it'll be by the side of the road with the hood up and the emergency flashers on. I'm pretty sure the repair bill total on that day will be considerably higher than what it might have been yesterday, but the owner did get to exercise his free will as a God-loving and socialist-fearing American, and that, I'm sure, will be very comforting when the wheels stop turning, assuming, of course, they don't just fall off.
-bill kenny
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Y is for Yogi
Many years ago, Yogi Berra, Yankee catcher and all around amazing human observer, was sitting in a pizza joint in Jersey City about to enjoy dinner. When the waitress brought his pizza pie, hot and bubbly to his table, she asked him if she should cut it into six slices. Oh no, he said, I'm not that hungry-four will be perfect. I suspect that's why Yogi still has a great deal of all the money the Yankees paid him-because he's really an economist. And if there's one thing we can use in the Nutmeg State right now, aside from pizza (and pony rides), it's some serious and new thinking about taxes and economic development.
In Connecticut, when the state has a budget sniffle, our cities and towns start reaching for the Kleenex with both hands. With very few exceptions, the only source of revenue for municipalities is property taxes (am property taxes? are property taxes? You figure it out). There are a variety of state and federal programs that provide revenue streams locally and, in theory, property taxes make up the difference, but in some form or other almost all the money in a city's budget comes from the state and the federal government (which started out a sour money, too, in case you forgot).
Our grandparents used to speak of the inevitability of death and taxes (and grandchildren, I believe), but when you live in a state that hasn't yet established a budget this year, taxes become a variable and that's not a good thing. In hard times, which we are in, or many of us are I think, we talk about economizing, measuring twice and cutting once, saving for a rainy day and all those bromides we use as emotional comfort food.
If you had the power to change how we tax and spend, be it in Norwich, or at the state level or even the national level, what would you do and how would you do it? And, perhaps as importantly, how would you measure how well your ideas were working out? I'm not idly curious because there's a point and purpose to the question-next Thursday evening in Norwich at six over on West Main Street, at Olympic Pizza (he's buying, so bring your appetite), Bob Zarnetske, who's running for Mayor, is sponsoring a get together to compare ideas on taxes and economic development.
It seemed sort of obvious when he outlined it months ago in the economic development plan on his website--if you create X number of dollars of growth in the city's Grand List, you can effectively lower individual taxes, but the more I've turned that idea over, the more I've come to realize, I'd have never thought of it (I spend a lot of time thinking thinking about pony rides. Lots of fun, but doesn't do squat for the Grand List.)
Together, we're a lot smarter than just me and so I'm thinking if you show up Thursday night and have an idea of two (or three), all of us could get a little smarter. And since the Mayor's job, basically, is to push for economic development, Zarnetske could offer us a sneak peek of how he's going to grow the grand list and further economic growth after he's elected Mayor in November. And did I mention there's pizza? See you there.
-bill kenny
In Connecticut, when the state has a budget sniffle, our cities and towns start reaching for the Kleenex with both hands. With very few exceptions, the only source of revenue for municipalities is property taxes (am property taxes? are property taxes? You figure it out). There are a variety of state and federal programs that provide revenue streams locally and, in theory, property taxes make up the difference, but in some form or other almost all the money in a city's budget comes from the state and the federal government (which started out a sour money, too, in case you forgot).
Our grandparents used to speak of the inevitability of death and taxes (and grandchildren, I believe), but when you live in a state that hasn't yet established a budget this year, taxes become a variable and that's not a good thing. In hard times, which we are in, or many of us are I think, we talk about economizing, measuring twice and cutting once, saving for a rainy day and all those bromides we use as emotional comfort food.
If you had the power to change how we tax and spend, be it in Norwich, or at the state level or even the national level, what would you do and how would you do it? And, perhaps as importantly, how would you measure how well your ideas were working out? I'm not idly curious because there's a point and purpose to the question-next Thursday evening in Norwich at six over on West Main Street, at Olympic Pizza (he's buying, so bring your appetite), Bob Zarnetske, who's running for Mayor, is sponsoring a get together to compare ideas on taxes and economic development.
It seemed sort of obvious when he outlined it months ago in the economic development plan on his website--if you create X number of dollars of growth in the city's Grand List, you can effectively lower individual taxes, but the more I've turned that idea over, the more I've come to realize, I'd have never thought of it (I spend a lot of time thinking thinking about pony rides. Lots of fun, but doesn't do squat for the Grand List.)
Together, we're a lot smarter than just me and so I'm thinking if you show up Thursday night and have an idea of two (or three), all of us could get a little smarter. And since the Mayor's job, basically, is to push for economic development, Zarnetske could offer us a sneak peek of how he's going to grow the grand list and further economic growth after he's elected Mayor in November. And did I mention there's pizza? See you there.
-bill kenny
Friday, August 14, 2009
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
When it showed up as a news update on my computer screen around lunch time yesterday, I just paused for a minute. The death of Les Paul marks the closing of a chapter in a lot of lives across and around the world and not all of us touched by his impact ever got anywhere near being successful with the electric guitar.
I don't know anyone as old as I am so my references may mean nothing to you-your loss. Born in 1952, I had no older brothers or sisters, so all the folkies and the hootenannies meant nothing to me. Elvis was back from the Army by the time I started to listen to the radio and for awhile, whatever my parents listened to was what I heard.
My parents did get me a transistor radio for my twelfth birthday, with a wrist strap that broke practically in the store when we bought it, and a white HUGE earphone for one ear (!), powered by those dorky nine volt batteries that cost more than week's allowance to replace and boy did they drain in a hurry and practically at the same moment, my rock and roll-the Beatles, the Dave Clark Five, the Rolling Stones, Yardbirds (imagine a band that had Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page, in turn, as lead guitarists), The Kinks, The Who...the list almost goes on forever, exploded in my left ear late at night courtesy of 'Seventy-seven W-A-B-C'.
I thought The Beatles had invented the electric guitar--they hadn't, of course; and neither had Les Paul though generations of rock and rollers since the Bridge Built from Britain all believed otherwise. You'll have to forgive me if I compare Les Paul and his solid-body guitar and his multi-track recording techniques to Henry Ford and the auto assembly line in terms of innovation. Both redefined what their industry was and did from the moment they became engaged in the process of invention.
If you love rock and roll music, you have to love the electric guitar and Les Paul was one of the those who defined the sound without ever limiting it. I don't know if you'd call him the father, or the uncle of it, or perhaps the cousin or baby-sitter. What a full life he led, all ninety-four years of it and he was still working!! I think of all the great rock guitarists who died too soon, starting with the Sky Marshal and including Paul Kosoff, Mick Ronson, Kurt Cobain, Duane Allman, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jerry Garcia and George Harrison and the road goes on forever (or close to it).
I cannot play a note of music (our daughter Michelle can pick up any instrument and get music out of it in less than a minute-what a blessing and an amazing gift that is!) but I grin so broadly the top of my head could well fall off when I think of how wonderfully defining the electric guitar is in rock and roll. Yeah, I love Jerry Lee, Elton John and Billy Joel, but it's James Burton and Scotty Moore who make those early Elvis records wail, Dave Edmunds and Nick Lowe and Jimmy Page and Dave Davies and just too many others to fit in one old person's brain--all sons of Les, who even now is sitting in a sound-proof booth in the Good Lord's multi-track studio in heaven with headphones around his neck and a rhythm of rhyming guitars. Play on, Les, and loud.
-bill kenny
I don't know anyone as old as I am so my references may mean nothing to you-your loss. Born in 1952, I had no older brothers or sisters, so all the folkies and the hootenannies meant nothing to me. Elvis was back from the Army by the time I started to listen to the radio and for awhile, whatever my parents listened to was what I heard.
My parents did get me a transistor radio for my twelfth birthday, with a wrist strap that broke practically in the store when we bought it, and a white HUGE earphone for one ear (!), powered by those dorky nine volt batteries that cost more than week's allowance to replace and boy did they drain in a hurry and practically at the same moment, my rock and roll-the Beatles, the Dave Clark Five, the Rolling Stones, Yardbirds (imagine a band that had Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page, in turn, as lead guitarists), The Kinks, The Who...the list almost goes on forever, exploded in my left ear late at night courtesy of 'Seventy-seven W-A-B-C'.
I thought The Beatles had invented the electric guitar--they hadn't, of course; and neither had Les Paul though generations of rock and rollers since the Bridge Built from Britain all believed otherwise. You'll have to forgive me if I compare Les Paul and his solid-body guitar and his multi-track recording techniques to Henry Ford and the auto assembly line in terms of innovation. Both redefined what their industry was and did from the moment they became engaged in the process of invention.
If you love rock and roll music, you have to love the electric guitar and Les Paul was one of the those who defined the sound without ever limiting it. I don't know if you'd call him the father, or the uncle of it, or perhaps the cousin or baby-sitter. What a full life he led, all ninety-four years of it and he was still working!! I think of all the great rock guitarists who died too soon, starting with the Sky Marshal and including Paul Kosoff, Mick Ronson, Kurt Cobain, Duane Allman, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jerry Garcia and George Harrison and the road goes on forever (or close to it).
I cannot play a note of music (our daughter Michelle can pick up any instrument and get music out of it in less than a minute-what a blessing and an amazing gift that is!) but I grin so broadly the top of my head could well fall off when I think of how wonderfully defining the electric guitar is in rock and roll. Yeah, I love Jerry Lee, Elton John and Billy Joel, but it's James Burton and Scotty Moore who make those early Elvis records wail, Dave Edmunds and Nick Lowe and Jimmy Page and Dave Davies and just too many others to fit in one old person's brain--all sons of Les, who even now is sitting in a sound-proof booth in the Good Lord's multi-track studio in heaven with headphones around his neck and a rhythm of rhyming guitars. Play on, Les, and loud.
-bill kenny
Thursday, August 13, 2009
The Republic of Me
Remember when we all used to live together in a shared country? (Together being the operative word) We didn’t always get our own way (some of us spent a long time trying to figure out exactly who voted for McGovern, and then, later, for Dukakis; and then, even later, for the SECOND Bush) and we tended to favor the notion of having one political party in control of the White House while the other one was in Congress. We had infinite shades of grey, anatomically and otherwise. Now we have the most abrupt, bruising and brusque form of non-nuanced conversations in all the years I've been carrying around this belly-button.
To review, and the list is by no means exhaustive or inclusive: we have birthers, cut and runners, stay and kill ‘em alls, take your hands off my health care, make the bankers jump from the highest open windows in burning buildings, wise Latinas are better than middle-aged white guys (ahem; Judge Sonia, Usted está caminando en el lado de la lucha de mí) with celebrities of every stripe weighing in on topics ranging from world hunger (hello Bono!) the environment (Hello Leo) to every issue in between (
And it's almost fine. We have clenched jaws and hard eyes and hardened hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't talk-it just means we won't, I guess. Somewhere we decided two diatribes equals one dialogue and I GET TO GO FIRST! (sorry). If we yell AT one another long enough, from a distance somewhere in space it will look like we are talking to one another. Respectful disagreement has gone the way of the dodo bird. If you don't agree with me you are the most awful person in the history of the planet, as are everyone else related to you, everyone else related to them and everyone any of you know. Wait a minute-when I do that much finger pointing some of the fingers on that hand point back at me. Hmmm.
Labels such as 'liberal' and 'conservative' are now pejoratives hurled like discount store invective at opposing viewpoints, appropriate or not, and the reaction to the labeling obscures quite nicely any opportunity to see the person we've just tagged. Now all we are is disagreeable when we disagree. And we engage in preemptive shouting matches with one another in forums supposedly designed to let us exchange ideas and views. The longer the meeting, the louder the yelling and don't even get me started on the understanding (the smoker you drink, the player you get).
I read an online note from someone the other day who insisted 'health care isn't in my copy of the Constitution!' and as a joke, I shared that neither is "freedom of speech" (his or anyone else's). Rather, all of that is in the Bill of Rights (technically the first ten amendments to the US Constitution) which was created in reaction and response to concerns by well-meaning people (we'd probably call them 'kooks' today) about protection of personal liberties from a federal government not yet in existence (we had, after all, just defeated the most powerful nation on earth and were still a little touchy about folks telling us what to do). He didn't appreciate my tongue-in-cheek observation and was eager to suggest I stick my head between two other cheeks (which, I think, would have made it more difficult to see his point of view, but that's just me).
Back in the day, we talked things out and arrived at consensus through reasoned discussion and debate. Now the line between gee-willikers and jihad makes it almost impossible to discuss anything. I mention this because in the fall we have countless thousands of local elections across these United States and we owe it to those whom we've nominated for office to speak in coherent and complete sentences about what we want and what we feel we need and how we propose to work together (that's a key phrase in my house) to achieve rebuilding our country.
You can't shake hands with people who have balled fists and maybe it's just me but this knuckle bumping horse hockey is so ten minutes ago. We need to learn once again to speak in complete sentences and respectful tones to one another, one at a time and then move on to larger groups. Eventually, we might get the hang of how we used to do all of this, back when we all lived in the same country at the same time. History needn't be a mystery.
-bill kenny
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
The Sweat of our Brows
Watched from my office window as someone in sweats walking towards a building that I know has a fitness center, was smoking a cigarette, which she finished and put out in an ash tray very close to the front of the building she was entering. I smoked two/three packs of cigarettes a day for twenty-two (plus) years and have my own definitions of insanity and dependence, as does each of us with a vice, but for Kafkaesque humor, you'd have to go some to top that. I'm thinking perhaps trying to wolf down a Haagen-Dazs giant ice cream cone before crossing the threshold into the fitness center, assuming the H-D guys are still in business and make such an item.
We like the routine, the assurance of the rote drill (I think) and maybe that's where we believe the benefit accrues. It's like small children learning the Pledge of Allegiance long before they have any idea what allegiance means (for some of us that's still true through old age). A whole generation now hits the fitness centers in the same way previous ones frequented the bars and clubs on Saturday nights or the churches on the Sunday mornings that followed.
But for what purpose, and to what end? Behaviorists refer to an Obesity epidemic in the United States and it surfaces for its fifteen minutes on the electronic vapor and vapid box in the corner of the living room and then we have another double colestro-and-bacon burger from the neighborhood drive in and don't forget to supersize the fries and, what?-oh yeah, the drink? Gimme a diet cola, no ice.
Instead of studying and attempting to learn the lessons behind research like this, we watch Oprah live her best life (or something close to it) and dream of the day we can be in the studio audience and under our theater seat is a ......pair of Nike Running shoes(?) I think not. There may not be a free lunch, like the teachers in school told us, but Oprah can give us healthy eating tips and the napkins are recyclable.
I'm wondering if we're not better off just eliminating the middle man and cutting out the white space. Put a cigar bar in the fitness center--or set up one of those luxurious dessert places in the lobby; call it "Cool Whip and Curls", no one will snicker. Those who wish to indulge can, and the rest of us can pretend to not see any of it as it'll all be out of sight. Look at how often we've used that trick to handle world events that should and could have numbed us. Besides, it keeps us from walking around with our eyes closed-people can get hurt going through life like that.
-bill kenny
We like the routine, the assurance of the rote drill (I think) and maybe that's where we believe the benefit accrues. It's like small children learning the Pledge of Allegiance long before they have any idea what allegiance means (for some of us that's still true through old age). A whole generation now hits the fitness centers in the same way previous ones frequented the bars and clubs on Saturday nights or the churches on the Sunday mornings that followed.
But for what purpose, and to what end? Behaviorists refer to an Obesity epidemic in the United States and it surfaces for its fifteen minutes on the electronic vapor and vapid box in the corner of the living room and then we have another double colestro-and-bacon burger from the neighborhood drive in and don't forget to supersize the fries and, what?-oh yeah, the drink? Gimme a diet cola, no ice.
Instead of studying and attempting to learn the lessons behind research like this, we watch Oprah live her best life (or something close to it) and dream of the day we can be in the studio audience and under our theater seat is a ......pair of Nike Running shoes(?) I think not. There may not be a free lunch, like the teachers in school told us, but Oprah can give us healthy eating tips and the napkins are recyclable.
I'm wondering if we're not better off just eliminating the middle man and cutting out the white space. Put a cigar bar in the fitness center--or set up one of those luxurious dessert places in the lobby; call it "Cool Whip and Curls", no one will snicker. Those who wish to indulge can, and the rest of us can pretend to not see any of it as it'll all be out of sight. Look at how often we've used that trick to handle world events that should and could have numbed us. Besides, it keeps us from walking around with our eyes closed-people can get hurt going through life like that.
-bill kenny
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